


CONTROL

by miracleboysatori



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Artificial Intelligence, Blood, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sci-Fi AU, Slow Burn, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2019-10-23 11:05:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17682239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miracleboysatori/pseuds/miracleboysatori
Summary: The date is05-14-4067, your identification isTENDOU SATORI, you are aTAXI DRIVER, and you will attend work today from6PM-5AM, please be prompt and on time, anything else could result in grave consequences. Your cooperation is appreciated, and necessary. :)





	1. graveyard shift

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'm super excited to be starting and posting the first chapter of this fic!
> 
> I've been worldbuilding in my head for the past few months, and I've been really passionate about this entire story and idea. Concept art will likely be posted alongside some updates, since a lot of these ideas are very prominent in my head. I love sci-fi!!! And I want this fic to carry a very specific vibe.
> 
> I've had the band Battle Tapes basically on repeat ever since starting this, and they've been the biggest inspiration for this story. This first chapter title is one of their song titles, and I'd highly recommend giving their stuff a listen, especially while reading through this fic. If I could offer suggestions: Graveyard Shift (the namesake of this chapter), Alive, Last Resort and Spa, or Valkyrie. Or, you could just listen to classic 80s synthwave, which is always a favorite of mine. 
> 
> Most of my writing experience so far is a lot of emotional fluff and angst, and this will be a much different experience, but I'll definitely be injecting a lot of that into this story too. It's gonna be a wild ride full of violence, humor, and lots and lots of pining. I am also new to writing some of these characters, but I'm super pumped to be including many more of the characters I love so much from Haikyuu. Right now, the list that is tagged are just the characters within the first three chapters, but several more will pop up and be added too! UshiTen, Kagehina, and SemiShira will be the big three, though.
> 
> ANYWAY, I don't want to talk too much. If you're giving this a shot, thank you!! I really hope you enjoy and I'd love to hear your thoughts, whatever they might be! I imagine there will be questions, but I can promise that things will slowly be answered as the story progresses. Still, feel free to ask! I love to hear from you guys. ♡
> 
> (Also, I do not have a beta, but I will read through this in a few days to catch any mistakes I might have missed, I apologize ahead of time!)

At 5 PM on the dot, shrill beeping fills the space of a small cube apartment hidden away deep within one of many complexes lining the dark and shady alleyways of downtown Tokyo. The interior walls flare up in bright blue light, matching the rhythm of the beeping that is gradually increasing in volume. Soon enough, a robotic voice will join the mix, commanding that it’s time to wake up, time to wake up, time to wake up --

A hand slams against the device resting on an old metal file cabinet, instantly stopping the incessant beeping and the flashing lights, prompting the sleep cycle to repeat the process if the resident of this cube is not up and fully awake within five minutes. For now, its sole resident breathes a heavy sigh of relief, relishing in the pitch black darkness that he knows will only last for a short period of time. He stuffs his face against the only slightly comfortable fabric of his thin pillow, curls up even more underneath an old and slightly tattered blanket, and holds on to any ounce of warmth still leftover from the sunken mattress underneath him.

Soon enough, the beeping has started again, and the flashing lights are taking away any bit of rest that he could have been able to hold on to.

“Alright, alright!” he erupts from underneath his blanket, blindly searching for the device on his file cabinet again. Evidently, it must have fallen off somewhere. 

A head with disheveled red hair pops out from underneath the blanket and eyes partnered with dark circles blink painfully against the flashes of blue overtaking the entire room. He groans, stumbling out of bed and cursing at whoever must have invented this technology that makes waking up so incredibly obnoxious every single day. 

With minimal floor space available, he can’t look in too many places for his device. He resorts to closing his eyes against the intensifying light, crouching down and running his hand along the floor. Eventually, he locates it, and immediately shuts off the alarm sequence. 

“I’m awake! See?” he shouts at his dark room, tugging at his lower eyelids, as if that will convince his apartment’s AI any more, “Fucking ridiculous,” he mumbles, taking the one step necessary to cross his room and take a seat at his desk in an old computer chair.

With a few taps across the screen of his device, the object transitions into a much larger version of itself, visually resembling a computer monitor. With his eyes still trying to adjust to the faint blue light of the technology, he skims through a list of notifications he’d received while asleep. Eventually, after sifting through spam and junk, he reaches the notification he’d been looking for.

**The date is 05-14-4067, your identification is TENDOU SATORI, you are a TAXI DRIVER, and you will attend work today from 6PM-5AM, please be prompt and on time, anything else could result in grave consequences. Your cooperation is appreciated, and necessary. :)**

He clicks his tongue at the passive aggressive smiley face. It’s identical to the notification he’d received yesterday and every single day before, minus the date being different. Tendou chews at his lower lip, wondering just how grave those consequences might be if he decided that today he wanted a day off for once. When was the last time he took a day off? In all his 25 years of life, he’s not sure he’s had more than six or seven.

Anyway, it’s not like he has a choice. The second he doesn’t leave for work, this room will start flashing and beeping and yelling at him again in that annoying robotic voice, and it will not stop until he actually clocks in for work. That’s the problem with all of this; everything is so connected that there’s no possible way to hide or give yourself a break.

This is, unless he wants to give himself a lobotomy and remove the damn chip from his brain. 

Even if he had the medical skills necessary to perform such a task, he’s almost positive that the government would find some way to track him down. That has been the fate of every single person who’s ever attempted it. After all, everything is connected, and nobody can hide these days. Most days, Tendou finds that he doesn’t mind playing the role of obedient citizen, especially if it means he continues to have a place to sleep, food to eat, and money to occasionally indulge in his other interests. Not that he really has time for many of those, since modern society tends to keep everyone extremely busy.

Tendou taps the screen again a few times, and the device switches to take the form of a wristband on his right arm. Now without much light, Tendou feels around the wall near his doorway until he locates a small console. With the press of a couple buttons, the walls and ceiling flare up in light again, though this time a much more natural and non-headache-inducing off-white. 

His whole room is now lit up, which is good, except for the clutter now being fully visible. He hasn’t had time to do his laundry in days, hasn’t had any time to tidy up in general, so Tendou scrounges through a pile of clothes sitting next to his bed. As a taxi driver, he doesn’t have much of a dress code, though he tends to stick with comfortable clothes that he doesn’t mind sitting for hours in. He grabs a pair of heather grey joggers and a long-sleeved black shirt, setting them on his mattress before slipping out of his usual sleep attire, a t-shirt and pair of shorts. 

After changing, he returns to the console on his wall, pressing a few more buttons and watching as the room flashes blue again. As if running through a scanner, the cluttered bedroom linearly changes into a just as messy bathroom, hologram-like plumbing slowly shifting into existence as it replaces the poster-covered walls. Before the sink has even fully phased into reality, Tendou turns the faucet on, quickly beginning his morning -- or rather, evening -- routine of brushing his teeth, washing his face, and fussing with his hair. 

As he stares at himself in the slightly busted mirror, he notes that he’s looking especially cryptid-like today. He wonders if this will have any hindrance on his ability to attract customers this evening. Honestly, most of them will probably be far too drunk or doped up to be able to notice how offputting he might look. As long as they can help fill his work quota and fill his wallet, Tendou doesn’t care too much about who his clientele are or how obnoxiously under the influence they are. 

Though he does wonder how someone like himself ever ended up becoming a taxi driver in the first place. It must be his charisma and extremely charming smile. 

Feeling overall much more refreshed, with his previously disheveled hair now achieving the perfect amount of controlled chaos, Tendou returns to the console and his room phases back into its original bedroom state. The device still on his wrist blinks red, a low sound warning him that his shift for work starts in just thirty minutes.

Tendou takes another quick look around his tiny cube apartment, making sure that he has everything he needs to get through his evening. But really, all he needs are the microcomputer on his wrist and the implant in his brain. It’s like his entire life is controlled by these two things, but he supposes that makes things a lot easier than having to carry around belongings like a wallet and a cellphone. People hundreds of years ago really had it rough.

The metal front door shuts behind him with a loud slam, echoing through a long and dark hallway. This is one of the many corridors throughout this apartment complex, and this is just the twelfth floor out of a hundred. The space is faintly illuminated only by loosely hanging light bulbs sporadically extending from the ceiling, and the old carpet is stained by unknown things that Tendou can only take a guess at the content of.

The stairwell is old and creaking, rusted over and marked by peeling olive-colored paint. Rapid-moving elevators would usually be standard in most buildings like this, but unfortunately this complex is one of the most run-down and lower class choices in the city. Tendou doesn’t mind the ten-story climb anyway; he figures it keeps him fit, since his job requires simply sitting in a car seat for several hours. His footsteps echo through the slim space, warning the homeless folk who usually hang out at the bottom of the stairwell of his presence. He senses it now: he’ll be asked at least a few times if he has anything to spare, and if he can transfer any funds from his own microcomputer to theirs, and he will tell them the same thing he always does.

“Barely got enough to get through the week,” he answers apologetically, earning him a few disappointed stares from the familiar faces who frequent the stairwell, “but if I get some good tips, I’ll share the wealth.”

It hasn’t happened very often, given how society isn’t exactly too keen on tipping anybody these days. Everyone is strapped for cash, and those who aren’t either don’t spend any time amongst the lower class, or simply don’t possess any desire to give to those less fortunate. On the off chance that it has happened, Tendou’s been known to share, even if he doesn’t have much to give away. Though it was only for a brief period when he was eighteen, he remembers what it’s like to be homeless in a city as unforgiving as this.

Tendou quickly heads off in the direction of his taxi, pushing through crowds of people still littering the streets even at this time of night. Night and day really aren’t much different anymore, anyway. The sun stopped shining over three hundred years ago, leaving the entire planet in pitch black darkness. Within the last two hundred years, technology has advanced to a point where man-made globes of light litter the sky, though only shining brightly enough to emulate what looks like a constantly star-dusted night sky. Daytime does not exist anytime, besides technically taking place between the typical hours from the past of sunrise and sundown. 

There’s also the light shining from the slightly menacing, massive mothership that constantly floats above the city below, but most people tend to ignore that looming presence as much as they possibly can. It doesn’t exactly radiate any sort of friendly vibe.

The streets of Tokyo are brightly lit even without the floating globes of light and the mothership, mostly by neon signs and huge flashy advertisements. The historic districts -- financial, government, fashion, arts, red light, etc -- have all fused together within the last several hundred years. It isn’t uncommon at all for a church to be located right next to a strip club, or for a professional hospital to be sitting behind a drug distributor’s illegally-run corner shop. Children are mostly rarely seen these days, since they’re often recruited by the government for reasons that the higher-ups keep secret. 

Nearing the garage where the taxis are kept, Tendou stops at a booth selling bagels. With a quick scan of his wristband, the cost is instantly taken out of his account and he is on his way. Convenience like this, and the ability to sleep in as much as possible before having to head out for work, are some of the reasons he appreciates this technology, even if it’s allowance for privacy is definitely at a zero. Of course, the opportunities for thieves to steal food and other things by simply walking past a booth are numerous, but maybe that’s just a given for how fast-paced life is in modern times like this. It may also account for the severely suffering economy.

Tendou finally reaches the garage that houses the numerous taxis provided to drivers throughout the city. A scanner confirms his identification and a large steel door slowly rises, allowing him access inside. The countless rows of taxis, all the same shade of black, are available in a large variety of models. Tendou walks past the more modern options, locating his usual choice at the far right corner of the dimly-lit garage. 

He greets the 4-door replica of a 1980’s Ferrari Testarossa by patting its spotless hood. The vehicle immediately whirrs to life and unlocks as soon as his wristband makes contact with its surface, instantly recognizing Tendou’s identification as its driver for the night. The seams of the car as well as its underside expel a neon yellow, clearly indicating its status as a taxi and casting the area around it in bright light.

Tendou slips into the driver’s seat of the vehicle that’s become almost like a second home to him ever since he’d taken this job. He’d tried out other models, and even compared to the newest and finest vehicles, this one has remained his favorite. There’s something about its vintage charm and the sleek, black leather seats… not to mention that its unusual appearance amongst the more modern cars lining the streets at night always tends to draw a lot of attention, and as a result, a lot more business. 

He runs his palms across the familiar steering wheel, eager to get his night started. Leaning back in the seat, he taps his wrist a few times. The microcomputer disappears from his arm and instead flares back to life in Tendou’s eyes, glowing the same blue color as his room had this morning. As the computer settles into his pupils, the blue fades away, but Tendou’s sight is now paired with much more information scattered across his field of vision, listed in font of a similar shade of yellow as the car’s light.

In the upper right corner, he can see a tally currently reading “0 OUT OF 30”, keeping track of his required client number for tonight’s shift. Thirty people is a tall order for slow nights, but it’s not the worst he’s seen. The city seems to be bustling with activity anyway, and for some reason, Tendou’s got a good feeling about tonight.

In the upper left, there’s a meter currently set at zero, which will gradually rise for each guest and will provide Tendou with the total amount to charge them for their ride. Luckily, even if the rate seems unfair or if the passengers whine about having to pay for a simple ride, their own microcomputers will have already processed the payment quicker than they can utter a single foul word in Tendou’s direction. Things just move _that_ quickly.

In the lower left of his vision is a map laying out the current area that he’s driving in. RIght now, the yellow arrow symbolizing this car is sitting in a black box resembling the layout of this garage. Finally, in the lower right corner is a space for the current music playing in the car to be listed. As of now, there is nothing, but Tendou generally always has some sort of playlist going as he’s driving. 

After confirming that everything is in order, he waits for the internal clock of his microcomputer to let him know that his shift has begun. A few minutes pass, and his vision flashes blue, signifying that it is now 6 PM, and his night has started. 

Tendou revs the engine of the car, mostly for his own satisfaction, and then carefully drives towards the entrance of the garage. He joins the traffic filling the streets outside, already spotting a few other taxis amongst the mess. The sidewalks are especially crowded tonight, and for now, the masses seem to be playing nicely. But, after all, it’s only six, and Tendou guesses that by the time his shift is halfway over, he’ll have seen at least five drunken screaming matches, maybe a couple gunfights, and probably a few too many aggressive public displays of  
affection in the backseat of his own car. This city is never boring in the late hours, that’s for sure.

At just three hours into his shift, he’s already met over half his quota. So far, his clients have been relatively peaceful, though not very talkative. It’s mostly been a few employees finishing up their day jobs, ready to escape the nightlife, get back to their own apartments and get some rest. Still, Tendou always attempts to strike up a conversation, curious about any potential gossip filling the streets. He knows that the bulk of those stories will come to him in the later hours, though.

At around 11PM, Tendou’s tally now reads “24 OUT OF 30”, and he’s feeling extremely good about this shift. Truthfully, he feels he deserves a bonus, but he knows that’s out of the question. Things like that just don’t happen.

Shortly after, a group of young women wave him down on the curb next to a busy bar. He quickly pulls up, unlocking the doors and watching as the four of them pile into the car, one in the passenger seat and three in the back.

“Where to?” he asks, lowering the volume of the car radio currently playing one of his favorite synthwave playlists.

“Just six blocks up this street,” the woman in the front seat answers, loudly chewing on a piece of gum, “we’re trying to get to that one bar that apparently had some action going on earlier.”

Interest piqued, Tendou watches as the map flashing across his vision sets the next destination. He hadn’t heard about this apparent activity tonight, but he’s definitely curious.

“Action?” he raises an eyebrow, meeting the eyes of the women sitting in the back seat.

“Someone said there was a shooting!” One of them loudly announces, leaning forward and breathing alcohol-soaked breath on Tendou’s shoulder.

“No!” another one counters, sounding completely frustrated, “It was a break-in! Or a robbery or something!”

The third in the back seat groans, “You’re both wrong, someone overdosed!”

“Will you three shut it?” the woman in the front seat snaps, shooting all three a glare before turning back to face Tendou, “Sorry about them, they’re _super_ drunk.”

“No worries~” Tendou smirks, “I’ve seen way worse. Ya’ got me all curious about this bar, though.”

“Don’t be,” she shakes her head, “shit happens every night around here. Nothing new.”

Maybe so, but for some reason he’s still curious. 

“This is it,” the one in the front seat points out the front window at a building surrounded by security vans.

Tendou pulls up to the curb, unlocks the doors, and doesn’t bother reading off their total. It’s already been taken care of, anyway, he knows. 

“You sure you wanna hang around here?” he asks, noticing the tentative movements of all four of his passengers, “Lots of security, that’s no fun.”

“Maybe,” the woman next to him chews on her red lower lip, looks out the window for a second, then back at him.

Her friends spill out of the car, huddling up and eagerly but slowly walking towards the commotion.

“Will you wait here? For like… ten minutes,” the last one in his car asks as she rests her hand on the door handle, “just in case things are bad.”

“Sure,” Tendou shrugs, watching the tally change to “25 OUT OF 30”. He’s still got almost seven hours left of his shift, and he knows for a fact he’ll have no problem doubling the grand total, even if he has to sit here and wait for a bit.

“Thanks,” she pauses, bites her lip again, and then, in a much softer, more sultry voice, “there might be a _really_ good tip in it for you,” she says as she quickly reaches over to squeeze his thigh.

She exits the car, stumbling slightly in her heels as she rejoins her friends and fades into the crowd surrounding the bar. Tendou’s spine prickles at that last comment; it’s not the first time he’s been flirted with, and not even the first time he’s been vaguely offered… _favors_ , in exchange for him simply doing his job. Funnily enough, despite all the rules and regulations in place in this current day and age, he’s never once been disciplined for ever allowing himself to accept these sorts of tips. 

He almost thinks something like that might happen again tonight, as he waits for almost a half hour for the group of women to return. The crowd has not dissipated even a little bit, but the group is nowhere to be seen, and Tendou’s curiosity is still at a maximum. What could have happened in this bar, he wonders? Things like shootings, robberies, and overdoses are a regular occurence, and surely they wouldn’t attract this much attention for this long.

Accepting defeat, Tendou checks the time, realizing that he’s been sitting here for around forty-five minutes. It’s just past midnight now, and his stomach is starting to tell him it’s time for his lunch break. Wherever those women are, they must have either forgotten about him, or they must have found something else to capture their attention all over again.

Tendou drives off, stopping several blocks away at a convenience store. He leaves his car just long enough to buy a sandwich and a can of soda. Once back inside the safety and comfort of his taxi, he presses a button on the front console, and the windows shift to a much darker shade. Tendou can still see out the windows, but any vision looking in is completely blocked, signaling to passersby that he is on his break and currently not accepting passengers.

Ripping through the plastic, he eagerly takes a bite of his sandwich and leans his head back against the seat. He mumbles a command to the microcomputer taking up his vision, and instead of seeing work-related meters, he’s greeted with the comforting sight of a library of movies and shows. He picks at random, letting himself focus entirely on the classic anime series taking up his entire vision. He can still hear the sounds of the city around him, through they’re distant now, taking a backseat as he takes his break.

After finishing his sandwich, he rests his arms behind his head, outwardly laughing and making comments about the colorful characters flashing across his eyes. This is probably one of his favorite parts of the night, being able to sit in his dream car and indulge in one of his few interests without worrying about customers for at least half an hour. It’s never long enough, but it’s always the perfect amount of time to reset his energy levels and prepare him for the rest of his shift.

As a dramatic battle between the main protagonist and antagonist of this series plays out in his vision, he distantly hears the sound of car doors opening and shutting, but his mind instantly chalks it up as one of the other taxis probably taking passengers nearby. He takes another sip of his soda, mind buzzing with anticipation as the hero takes a swing at the enemy --

“Hey! Are you deaf?” comes a loud and intrusive voice from right beside him.

Tendou’s vision immediately switches back to reality as his brain goes into panic mode. He practically jumps out of his seat when he turns to the passenger side and notices another person is sitting in the car with him, staring at him incessantly, unblinking.

“Wh --” he starts, eyes wide and heart pounding.

“I said step on it!” the boy -- is he a boy? An adult male? Tendou can’t exactly tell, but he’s short and not exactly too threatening at first glance.

“ _Woooah_ , woah, woah, hang on little guy,” Tendou laughs, voice laced with both humor and clear irritation, “I’m off duty right now,” he quickly explains, feeling exasperated, “I don’t care how drunk you might be, you interrupted my show, not even a tip will repay that!”

“Here’s a tip,” the stranger grins, suddenly pulling out a shiny and small, but threatening, handgun, “if you know what’s good for you, you’ll get us out of here right now.”

Tendou jumps at the sight of the gun and instantly starts the car. Okay. Clearly he’s got a situation on his hands, but it’s not the first time someone has brought a gun into his car and threatened him with it. All he has to do is cooperate and then file a report once it’s over, or if it gets any worse, hope that the government will sense his panic and have the rare decency to help him out before he’s killed. Funny how they react almost instantly when it comes to people not waking up on time, but the second someone is in danger, it’s like they decide to check out.

As soon as he’s started moving, the stranger puts the gun away, and Tendou feels himself relax, but only just a little. There’s not enough light for him to be able to see this guy very clearly, but he’s got intense eyes, a shock of wild orange hair, and a look of determination on his face.

“Where to?” Tendou cautiously asks the question he poses all of his passengers, keeping his voice as steady as possible.

“We need to get to a safe place, where we can’t be easily found,” the stranger replies, “I really hope you can help.”

Well, he hasn’t given him much of a choice, has he? Confusion filling every crevice of his entire body, Tendou wracks his brain for any sort of possible destination. It’s hard for him to focus, given all the questions on his mind and the rapid pounding of his heartbeat in his ears.

“Tobio,” the stranger suddenly says in a clear voice, confusing Tendou even further, “we’ve got a ride, any updates?”

“‘Tobio’?” Tendou asks, narrowing his eyes as he takes a sharp turn into a less busy street.

He’s ignored for a moment as the passenger listens intently. To what, Tendou isn’t sure. But he mumbles a few ‘okay’s and finally a ‘thanks’, and then he’s focused on Tendou again.

“Tobio is my partner, he’s helping us on this little escapade,” the stranger finally explains, “I was on call with him. Oh!” he turns his whole body to face Tendou, grinning again, “I’m Hinata, by the way. Hinata Shouyou. And this,” he gestures to the back seat, “is my pal, Wakawaka!”

‘Wakawaka’? What kind of a name -- ? Tendou glances in the rear view mirror, jumping in his seat as he meets the intense stare of a large figure sitting in the back. In fact, it’s one of the most intense stares he thinks he’s ever witnessed, and his entire body shivers against its force.

“Wakawaka is short for Wakatoshi, which is short for Ushijima Wakatoshi,” Hinata continues, “You can call him whatever you want, he won’t care, but it better be a _nice_ name,” he warns, “cause otherwise I might have to ask him to break you in two! And trust me, he could do it.”

Somehow, Tendou’s mind is filled with a thousand more questions than before, despite being given all of this information.

“What the _fuck_ \-- ?” he mumbles, mostly to himself, but also to both of his passengers.

“Don’t worry, I’ll explain everything,” Hinata leans back in his seat, resting his feet on the dashboard, “for now, just get us somewhere quiet and safe. And make it quick, they _are_ kinda looking for us.”

Tendou doesn’t have any idea who ‘they’ are or why his current passengers need to be somewhere ‘quiet and safe’, but one thing is certain.

It sounds like the remainder of tonight’s shift will be anything but typical.


	2. chinatown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello!! I'm having so much fun with this fic, it's so EXCITING,, I hope it's showing through my writing!!
> 
> This chapter mostly focuses on Semi, Shirabu, and Kawanishi! There is a little bit of Tendou, Ushijima, and Hinata as well, though! It's been so nice to have the opportunity to write my other favorite Shiratorizawa boys, and it's been nice too to get some practice with writing in their POVs! I love these boys.... they are so Good.....
> 
> This chapter's namesake is [Chinatown by Starcadian](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jyO-MyJ4R1g), another song on my playlist for this fic~ It's pretty rad, and I think you should give it a listen! I hadn't watched the music video before today but it's crazy how close it comes to fitting the sort of aesthetic I was thinking of for this fic, I love it, haha. Also if anyone is interested in the playlist itself, let me know! I can def put a link in the next chapter! c:
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy, let me know what you think!
> 
> (I do not have a beta, but I will try to read through this in a few days to catch any mistakes I might have missed, I apologize ahead of time!)

Eyes glued to a palm-sized television screen, a bartender studies the fuzzy display coming from one of the many security cameras surrounding the small building. The night plays out in black and white, cutting out every few seconds just to return and show the same traffic-filled street and trash-littered sidewalk. He’s watching for something, somehow positive that he shouldn’t take his eyes away from the screen no matter what despite not knowing what he’s even waiting for. 

“Hey, you deaf?” 

He tears his eyes from the screen, startled by the gruff and clearly angry voice. A large man, probably in his 50s, stands behind the bar, hands balled up in fists, wrinkled and tattooed face twisted into a scowl. 

He hadn’t heard the drink order, if there was one, and Semi Eita knows that if he asks this man to repeat it, he may be shot right here where he stands. He guesses the risk isn’t all that bad; tonight’s pretty slow and boring anyway, and he could use some sort of action.

“I’m not deaf, no,” Semi replies, glancing back at the screen again to find that it’s display is still almost exactly the same, “but I also don’t speak asshole.”

The man leans even more over the bar, so close that when he firmly repeats himself, spit splatters across Semi’s face, “Whiskey. Neat.”

Without another word, Semi turns toward a wall of bottles and glasses and pours the man his drink. The antique television resting on the corner of the bar still looks the same, minus a random group of men stumbling across the sidewalk. Why does he feel like he can’t tear his eyes from this screen? What is he watching for? What is he waiting for?

He quickly hands the man his drink, thankful that he leaves without another word. The man heads farther into the club, taking a seat in one of the many couches littering the cramped and smoky space. Semi guesses he’ll quickly down his drink, pass out right where he’s sitting, and then leave in several hours. Technically Semi’s supposed to kick guests out if they aren’t actively purchasing drinks every hour or so, but if this means he doesn’t have to hassle the man or hear another word out of his mouth, he’s perfectly happy letting him waste his night away.

It’s strange how deserted the club is tonight, Semi thinks. Generally a crowd has gathered by now, or there’s at least two or three people sitting at his bar to chat with. Semi looks at the screen again, still greeted by a traffic-filled street. The more he stares at it, the more he thinks the people walking by look rushed, or intent on reaching a certain destination quickly. But why? He can’t be sure, but it makes him all the more curious. Turning the small dial on the front of the console, he switches the view to another camera; this one giving a view from right next to the club’s heavily locked and secured back door. Again, the view is the same as usual: deserted and a bit sketchy. 

Semi continues flipping through the various cameras, finally getting so fidgety that he’s reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He lights one, sticks it between his lips, and continues flipping through the screens, almost out of boredom at this point. 

Then, a few seconds later, a figure comes into view on the back door camera. As soon as Semi realizes who it is, his lips curl into a smirk and he reaches under the bar, flipping a tiny switch. The small and fairly quiet speakers on the television console play a buzzing noise, signaling that the back door has been unlocked. The figure outside, a young man with slanted bangs, a neutral expression, and a perfectly fitting suit, glances in the direction of the camera, gives a quick nod in thanks, and then disappears into the back door. 

Semi doesn’t even have to watch the right side of the bar to know that this man -- Shirabu Kenjirou -- will be entering this room in just a few seconds, probably with minimal information about where he just was or what he’s been up to. He’s usually reserved like that, and Semi would definitely be lying if he said he didn’t find it frustrating. 

But, he’d be lying even more if he said he didn’t find Shirabu’s secretive aura strangely attractive.

Sure enough, Shirabu enters the room from the right end of the bar, holding a briefcase tightly in his hand and brushing past Semi with a quiet, “Hey.”

“‘Hey’?” Semi raises an eyebrow, leaning his back against the bar as he watches Shirabu pour himself a small glass of alcohol, “That’s all I get?”

“I’m not sure what else you expected,” Shirabu counters, sipping from his glass and glancing around the room. He vaguely gestures to the man on the couch, eyeing Semi with curiosity, “Is he… ?”

“Passed out,” Semi confirms, taking a drag on his cigarette. He notes the slouched posture of the large man and the slow rise and fall of his chest, “why?”

“Good,” Shirabu carefully sets his briefcase on the bar, but doesn’t allude to it at all despite Semi’s fixed stare on the object, “Is Kawanishi here?”

“Yeah,” Semi nods, glances at Shirabu, then back at the briefcase, “don’t tell me you’re gonna go downstairs with him and ignore me for the rest of the night.”

“I didn’t say that,” Shirabu raises an eyebrow, “I just asked if he was here.”

“Yeah, well,” Semi wracks his brain for a response, coming up blank, “still.”

Shirabu doesn’t express how awkward Semi is being, but his judging stare is doing all the talking anyway. It’s a shame he’s so cute, Semi thinks.

“Anyway,” Shirabu clears his throat, leaving the back of the bar to sit on one of the barstools at the front, “Why’s it so dead in here tonight?”

“Dunno,” Semi shrugs, leaning against the bar, “I was gonna ask you that.”

“Why would I know?” Shirabu furrows his brow.

“Well, y’know, you’re out there all the time, you know people, I wondered if anything big was happening in the city tonight,” Semi vaguely asks, though he’s almost positive Shirabu will offer zero answers.

Shirabu unbuttons his suit jacket, quiet for several seconds and avoiding Semi’s curious stare, “You know I can’t share any details.”

“So you _do_ know something!” Semi stands up straight again, nearly dropping his cigarette.

“Shut up,” Shirabu hisses, “even if that’s true, I don’t want the entire city to hear it.”

“Not even a hint?” Semi begs, leaning forward again, “Just a tiny one?”

Shirabu remains silent, studying Semi’s face as his own remains just as neutral and stony as usual. Semi just waits, cigarette smoke drifting slowly through his vision as he passively notes how soft Shirabu’s lips look, how nice it might be to close the distance between both of them right now.

“There’s been…” Shirabu begins, gulping, “a breakout. From the mothership. That’s all I can say. And you _can’t_ repeat it, under any circumstances, do you understand?”

“A breakout?” Semi’s eyes go wide, “How?”

“I told you that’s all I can say,” Shirabu slips off the barstool but stands in place next to it, still staring directly at Semi, “and you have _got_ to stop smoking those things,” he waves his hand in front of his face, “they’re not good for you.”

“Well,” Semi smirks, “neither are you, but that hasn’t stopped me, has it?”

Is that a blush on Shirabu’s face? Semi thinks it is, but he can’t be too sure, and he knows better than to point it out. Shirabu is already grabbing his briefcase, crossing the room, and entering a room towards the back. Soon enough he’ll be going down a couple flights of stairs, meeting Kawanishi Taichi, one of his many business partners, and leaving Semi with a thousand more questions. 

Semi watches him leave, takes a long drag on his cigarette, and sighs. Why is it he’s always had a penchant for things that really _are_ bad for him?

**\-----**

_Don’t panic_ , Tendou’s brain continues repeating as he skillfully whizzes past other cars and crowds of people. His heart clearly isn’t following this advice, since it’s currently pounding so hard he’s positive it’s about to leap out of his body and escape through the window.

His passengers still aren’t offering any answers. The guy in the passenger seat is leaning back, looking way too relaxed as far as Tendou’s concerned. And the one in the back? Still sitting up straight, hands on his thighs, stare stoic and unwavering towards the back of the passenger side seat. Tendou watches him for several seconds through the rear-view mirror, until their eyes meet for a moment and a shiver goes through his spine again.

At this point, Tendou’s mind still hasn’t found any clear answer as far as where to take these two. He imagines if he knew the story behind them needing a ‘safe place’, he’d be able to come up with better options, but right now… there’s just too many unknowns. 

His apartment? Too many people around, probably. A bar somewhere? Again, too crowded. The garage where he got his car? Too obvious. He knows of one other place, somewhere he’s gone frequently for his breaks just to get away from the incessant crowds.

“There’s an abandoned lot,” he offers, mouth dry, “just a few minutes away. Would that work?”

Hinata sits up from his previously lounging position, pondering that thought for a moment, “It might,” he taps against the device on his wrist, one that looks almost identical to Tendou’s, and the small band switches to a handheld screen, “Tobio, you there?”

Tendou, though currently trying to dart through traffic, chances a glance at the device and sees a dark-haired figure sitting in view of the screen. This must be Hinata’s ‘partner’. Tendou isn’t sure of his location, just judging by the stark white background and the headset he’s wearing.

“I’m here,” the man confirms, “where are you headed?”

Hinata looks at Tendou, obviously wanting an answer. Tendou clears his throat, trying to speak loud enough for the device to catch his voice, “It’s about twelve blocks from where we are, next to an old gas station.”

The clicking of a keyboard can be heard from the screen as the city continues whizzing past. Tendou does his best not to speed and draw the attention of… well, whoever these two are running from right now.

“I’ve located it,” Kageyama confirms, “I’ll need to disconnect your taxi from the system.”

“Wait -- ” Tendou starts, slightly panicking, “Why? You can’t do that, I’ll lose control of it and we’ll crash! I thought you guys were trying to get away, not die.”

“Don’t worry,” Hinata grins, “Tobio’s pretty smart, he’ll figure it out.”

‘Pretty smart’ or not, Tendou is starting to lose any trust in these strangers, if he had any to begin with.

“I’m serious,” Tendou can visualize the crash in his head now, and it’s making him sweat more than he’s comfortable with, “and I’m not about to die because of you three, a car crash is like the lamest way to go.”

“It’s done,” Kageyama suddenly declares, clearly ignoring Tendou’s panic, “you’re off the system. They can’t locate you anymore, not by your car, at least.”

“Told you!” Hinata practically jumps in his seat, “You gotta start trusting us, ‘kay? Especially Tobio, cause if you don’t, you’ll be dead by the end of the night, trust me!”

That isn’t exactly comforting, and Tendou’s thirst for answers is starting to become unbearable. Who are ‘they’? Who are they running from? Where is Tobio currently at? How is he able to control the system like that? Why is the guy in the back still eerily silent?

He supposes the only thing he can do is follow through with his promise and get them to this abandoned lot. He hopes that one of two things will happen on their arrival: either he’s offered answers to all of his questions, or he’s let off the hook, able to return to his cramped cube apartment and sleep for the rest of his scheduled shift, maybe try to forget that all of this happened.

As the car nears the less busy area of town, the crowds are less frequent and the traffic is less condensed. Tendou slows the car’s speed, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. Course, if he’d known he would be helping a few strangers run from someone, he supposes he wouldn’t have chosen his usual car model for tonight’s shift in the first place. 

After several minutes, Tendou locates the previously mentioned gas station. The front is deserted, and it looks like there isn’t even anybody working inside tonight. That’s probably a good thing, Tendou thinks, since there won’t be anybody coming by. He continues driving forward, and the abandoned lot comes into view. It’s a parking lot with a small shed-looking building and no streetlights, making the car’s headlights the only guide as far as where to drive. 

Tendou pulls forward, slowly, until the car is hidden between the shed and several empty trash bins. He shuts off the car, turns off the lights, and ignores the flashing red numbers in the corner of his view, signifying that the payment for this trip couldn’t be completed because the car’s system is offline. Without acknowledging it, Tendou taps the side of his head and the device transitions back to a wristband, glowing a soft neon blue in the dark.

“We’re here,” he sighs, turning his entire body to face Hinata, “so will you _please_ tell me what the hell is going on?”

Hinata stretches, sets his now blank device on the dashboard, and yawns, “Maybe we should nap first, whaddya think, Wakawaka?”

“It has been approximately eight hours since we last rested, and our bodies could benefit from a short nap,” Ushijima confirms, voice calm.

“Then it’s settled!” Hinata exclaims, leaning his seat back again, “We nap for a little bit, _then_ we tell you what’s going on.”

“No,” Tendou shakes his head, “you said you’d explain everything.”

“Yeah, but,” Hinata shrugs, flings both arms behind his head as he lays back, “I didn’t say _when_ I’d explain it. G’night!”

Completely baffled, Tendou stares at Hinata for a moment, realizing that he’s completely serious about having his nap. Instead, he turns to Ushijima, who stares right back at him with intense eyes. 

“C’mon, you’ll tell me what’s going on, right?” Tendou mumbles, extending an arm out and pointing at Ushijima, “You’ve gotta. I got you guys here, I think you owe me that much.”

“I am not at liberty to give any answers without Hinata’s approval,” Ushijima calmly explains, hands still resting in his lap, “he told me that I must stay quiet.”

“Oh my _god_ ,” Tendou groans, flinging his head back against the headrest of his seat and sliding down to a slouched position, “this is ridiculous. I should just get out of this car and leave.”

“I would disagree,” Ushijima offers, “as I think it would be in your best interest to stay here. After all, you are now involved in something very dangerous and life-changing, according to Hinata and Kageyama.”

“Wait,” Tendou turns again, studying Ushijima’s face, “I never agreed to ‘life-changing’.”

“You didn’t,” Ushijima agrees, “however, it can’t be helped now.”

“Wakawaka,” Hinata sleepily mumbles against his seat, “are you giving away important and secret information?”

“I apologize,” Ushijima nods in Hinata’s direction, then faces Tendou again, “I’m going to rest now. You should too, Tendou.”

With that, Ushijima’s eyes shut and it’s as if his entire body shuts off. Tendou can hear Hinata snoring, and he considers attempting to reach over and steal his gun, maybe actually make a run for it. But something about his wildly energetic, unpredictable and, admittedly, slightly terrifying passenger makes him change his mind fairly quickly. Besides, the man in the backseat is large and extremely strong looking, and Tendou doubts he’d be able to fight him off in any way. Regardless, he seems… nice? A bit strange, sure, but there’s something about him that Tendou feels drawn to.

Tendou drags his hands across the steering wheel of the car, sighs and mumbles a soft ‘sorry’ to his favorite ride. The world outside the vehicle is quiet and empty, a strong contrast from the downtown that he’s so used to. Wind rushes through the few dead trees next to the lot, and the sound is somehow comforting. Still filled with a million questions, Tendou leans his seat back, closes his eyes, and finally allows himself to fall asleep.

**\-----**

“There was a breakout,” Shirabu speaks in a tone only loud enough for Kawanishi to hear, “the entire city is a mess right now.”

“Huh,” Kawanishi, standing behind a counter heavily stocked with guns, lets the information process, “how the hell did that happen? Isn’t the mothership like… impossible to leave or get in to?”

“Yes,” Shirabu nods, shifts slightly in the stools he’s sitting in, “which is why we think it’s an inside job. That’s the only possible way.”

It makes sense, Kawanishi thinks. He wants to ask more questions, but generally speaking, Shirabu is a tough nut to crack. Luckily, he doesn’t have to ask who ‘we’ is. Kawanishi knows that Shirabu has been part of an elite underground society for years now, sworn to never share information with any of his business partners. Kawanishi is often the sole exception, since they’ve been working so closely together for so long now.

“Did you tell Semi?” Kawanishi asks, glancing up towards the ceiling, up in the direction of where the bartender is likely standing right now.

“No, why would I tell him?” Shirabu narrows his eyes, but his hands fidget slightly and Kawanishi doesn’t miss that detail, “He _definitely_ can’t know anything, he talks to too many people.”

“Just curious,” Kawanishi shrugs, leaning back against a glass case full of ammunition, “I’m sure he’d keep quiet for _you_.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Shirabu fidgets even more, and Kawanishi inwardly congratulates himself on still being able to read his best friend so well, “Stop smiling, why are you smiling like that?”

Was he? Oh. Kawanishi attempts to control his smile and instead chuckles, “Just teasing you.”

Shirabu seems keen on nobody finding out about his and Semi’s… relationship? As if it’s any secret. Kawanishi’s caught them flirting several times, he just wonders when they’ll actually call the thing official and move on. After all, if Shirabu doesn’t make a move, then Kawanishi feels he might have to do it himself. Semi’s an attractive man, with a heart of gold and determination that knows no bounds. What’s not to love?

Truthfully, though, Kawanishi’s so married to his job that he doubts he’d have the time and energy to give to a relationship of any kind. Being an underground arms dealer isn’t exactly an easy job, and it’s hard to find lasting and positive relationships in a city like this as it is. Semi’s offered up the basement of his bar as a place for Kawanishi to safely deal, and that’s more than he could ever ask for from their friendship.

“I saw his… previous boyfriend,” Shirabu mutters, toying with the handle of his briefcase, “at least, I’m sure it was him. He was driving that same antique car. Practically speeding.”

“Tendou?” Kawanishi perks up, shifting his weight to his opposite foot, “Yeah, he works a lot. Haven’t seen him in a while.”

“Are they…” Shirabu chews on his lip, “well, do they still talk?”

“Dunno,” Kawanishi shrugs, “Tendou used to come in here almost every night for his break, but I think after they broke up he kinda… stopped,” he knows the answer to his next question already, but he asks it anyway, “Why?”

“No reason,” Shirabu immediately answers, “he seems dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” Kawanishi scoffs, extremely amused by that assumption, “Definitely not. Impulsive, sure. Maybe a little reckless. But definitely not dangerous, especially not with Semi. He’d do anything for his friends.”

Shirabu says nothing, just stares at the shelf full of guns, something like determination littering his face.

“So what’s in the briefcase?” Kawanishi changes the subject, leaning forward and tapping the leather surface of the object in Shirabu’s lap.

“That’s why I’m here,” Shirabu fishes in his pocket and pulls out a key, unlocking the case, “I’m supposed to get these priced by you, maybe have you take them off my hands.”

Once it’s opened, Shirabu rotates the case in his lap, allowing Kawanishi to look inside. The dealer whistles, taking in the sight of several rare technologically-advanced guns in pristine white and black.

“How’d you get these?” Kawanishi asks, gently taking a plasma gun in his hand and running his fingers across the intricately detailed handle, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen one up close. Usually it’s just the government that has these.”

“Exactly why I have them in this case,” Shirabu says, not offering an answer to the first question, “if anyone was caught with these, they’d be taken away immediately.”

“And you want _me_ to buy them from you?” Kawanishi raises an eyebrow.

“I assumed the Kawanishi Taichi that I know would be ecstatic about it,” Shirabu also raises an eyebrow.

Kawanishi smirks, takes the gun fully in his hands, and points it towards a wall of makeshift targets, “You’re damn right.”

Kawanishi flips off the safety, carefully aims it at the center of a old street sign, and squeezes the trigger. Immediately, a shot of violet plasma ejects from the end, hitting the sign directly in its center with a pinging sound. On impact, the metal shatters into a million pieces and disappears from existence, as if it never even existed in the first place.

Eyes wide, both stare at the empty space on the wall. Kawanishi slowly lowers the gun, makes sure to flip the safety on again, and slowly starts to smile.

“You’re sadistic,” Shirabu scowls, as if he’s surprised.

“Listen,” Kawanishi carefully sets the gun back in the briefcase, “it’s pretty cool. Does it have the same effect on…”

“People?” Shirabu finishes the question, giving Kawanishi one of his judging stares, “Yes. I’m afraid of why you’re asking.”

“No reason,” Kawanishi answers, and it’s honest. Truthfully, he’s just always had a sort of fascination with weapons, and working around them for so many years probably has something to do with that, “how much you want for ‘em?”

“I wasn’t sure,” Shirabu chews his lip, thinking, “you’re the expert, you tell me.”

Kawanishi stares at the wide array of weapons in the large case, almost clueless as to what he’d price these at. His knowledge mostly extends to the type of weapons you’d see floating around in the seedier parts of downtown, not the high caliber pieces that the government carry. 

“I might have to call around, see what some friends of mine think, that cool?”

“Of course,” Shirabu nods, but doesn’t hand over the case, despite Kawanishi reaching for it, “but I was informed to not let them leave my sight.”

“C’mon, you can trust me,” Kawanishi scoffs, but lets his arms fall to his side again.

“Sorry, I’m sure you can understand,” Shirabu looks down at the arsenal, “especially with what’s going on right now, these could be extremely dangerous in the hands of the wrong people.”

“Funny you say that, since I tend to deal with people who would fall under the ‘wrong people’ category,” Kawanishi laughs.

“Who you do business with is not my responsibility, nor my concern,” Shirabu counters, “however, I will do what I can to make sure they are kept safe until after you purchase them.”

“Alright,” Kawanishi takes one of the guns in his hand again, studying its features before reaching for his microcomputer device, “I’m gonna make a few calls. You might wanna settle in for the night.”

Shirabu nods, looking around the room for a place to rest. He chooses a dusty armchair in the corner of the room, still keeping the briefcase secure in his lap. Kawanishi watches him, shaking his head slightly. Not because he doubts his best friend’s trust in him, no. More so because Shirabu allows himself to get mixed up in such dangerous business constantly. An intelligent and well-rounded person such as himself could have ended up doing _anything_ , hell, he could have even ended up working for the government, and yet… 

It doesn’t matter, Kawanishi supposes. Shirabu’s chosen his bed and now he lies in it, though he doubts that Shirabu ever had any inkling just how dangerous and unfitting this bed could have been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all again for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts! Please feel free to reach out to me on twitter, I'd be honored if you wanted to talk to me! ♡
> 
> art twitter: [tendouaf](http://www.twitter.com/tendouaf)  
> social twitter: [ushitentxt](http://www.twitter.com/ushitentxt)  
> tumblr: [tendou-satori](http://www.tendou-satori.tumblr.com)  
> art blog: [kat-doodles](http://www.kat-doodles.tumblr.com)  
> pillowfort: [tendousatori](https://www.pillowfort.io/tendousatori)


	3. eyelids

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly can't believe it's been over two months since I've updated this fic, I'M SO SORRY ;; I'm been working so much and I've felt so creatively dry that I haven't had much time or energy to work on anything, including this fic. BUT, I got my stageplay DVD (the one with shiratorizawa) in the mail about a week ago and it has REALLY recharged and refreshed me in so many ways!!! So I'm back and ready to start creating content again! I hope everyone's been doing okay!! I've missed everyone a lot! I know I have comments to get to, but I promise I'm not ignoring them, just haven't had time to reply! I appreciate everything you guys have to say, it really means the world to me ;; ♡♡♡
> 
> This chapter is mostly Semi's POV, and I really like this one a lot. It's nice when I get to use what I feel are my strongest abilities as far as writing goes (aka emotional hurt/comfort sort of stuff) SO I had fun with this one. And this chapter's namesake is ['eyelids' by saro](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IBkgFvTqPMc), in cause you're curious. c:
> 
> (I do not have a beta, but I will try to read through this in a few days to catch any mistakes I might have missed, I apologize ahead of time!)
> 
> Hope you all enjoy! Lmk what you're thinking so far!

7 AM. 

Ushijima’s eyes open without hesitation, immediately surveying the area to make sure nothing poses any threat. Currently, there is nothing.

Rather, there could potentially be, but Ushijima currently only senses the presence of two people. He knows that his fate rests in the hands of Hinata, who has never once posed a threat to him in the days he’s known him. And the driver? Ushijima doubts he’d have any problem subduing him if and when it came down to that.

Ushijima’s body had not felt particularly worn down last night when they’d stopped the car, but he believes that the six hours of rest will likely still be beneficial somehow. 

In front of him, Hinata stirs slightly in his sleep, but doesn’t wake up. His hand is still tightly gripping the handgun he’d pulled on the driver last night, probably remaining ready for anything that might happen. He’s certainly good at reacting quickly, Ushijima has noticed. 

And the driver… Ushijima turns to look at him. He’s sprawled out -- as much as one can be in a driver’s seat, anyway -- and snoring lightly. Ushijima doesn’t have many thoughts on this one just yet, as he hasn’t really spent enough time around him to form any decisions. For now, he knows that he was able to get them to a safe and quiet place, and he still hasn’t made a run for it. 

So far, Ushijima trusts him. But that could change today, depending on how the rest of this escape plays out. 

Hinata’s microcomputer, still resting on the dashboard, begins beeping, signaling he has a call. Ushijima imagines it’s most likely Kageyama, judging by the way Hinata stirs awake and hurriedly grabs his device. In two seconds he’s stepped out of the car and moved several feet from it, talking in a hushed voice. Ushijima doesn’t know what the call is about, but he imagines that if it’s important and has anything to do with him, Hinata will share that information with him at a later time.

The driver makes a low groaning sound, bringing Ushijima to tear his stare away from Hinata for a moment. His long arms are draped behind his head as he sleepily looks around the car as if trying to find some sort of answer for what is going on. Unfortunately, Ushijima knows that he still isn’t at liberty to discuss anything with him in detail.

“Tendou Satori,” Ushijima greets him, “good morning.”

“Morning,” Tendou grumbles, eyeing Ushijima with an exhausted stare, “where’s the --” he motions with his hand towards the passenger seat, “the short one?”

“Hinata stepped out for a moment,” Ushijima points out the window towards the person in question, currently pacing as he continues talking to his microcomputer.

“Ah,” Tendou chews on his lip, an unreadable expression plastered across his face. Ushijima’s never been good at reading people, but he imagines it’s something like frustration, or confusion.

Tendou’s fingers drum against the steering wheel as he watches Hinata with unblinking eyes. Truthfully, the intensity in his stare puts Ushijima on edge for a moment, leading him to prepare for the worst. 

“So are either of you going to tell me what’s going on exactly?” Tendou finally tries, exasperated.

“As I said last night,” Ushijima replies, already seeing that frustration on Tendou’s face growing, “I cannot tell you anything. Hinata may eventually, but I am not sure when that will be, and it’s not for me to decide.”

Tendou’s eyes tear away from Hinata and instead settle on Ushijima, “What if I just --” he waves his hands around, “drove off right now, left the little psycho behind. What would happen?”

Ushijima’s body tenses at that threat, “That would not be wise.”

Raising an eyebrow, Tendou studies Ushijima, fingers tapping against the steering wheel again. The gears in his head are obviously turning, but Ushijima doesn’t have the slightest idea what he’s thinking about.

“Hoooold up,” he finally mumbles, narrowing his eyes, “how did you know my name?”

Oh. Ushijima inwardly scolds himself. He really ought to be more careful.

“Perhaps you introduced yourself last night,” Ushijima suggests, though it’s not the truth.

“I don’t think --”

Before Tendou can finish, Hinata is rushing back into the car, closing the door with a ‘thud’ and a sudden request, “Alrighty, wakey-wakey! Step on it, time to go!”

Tendou stares at him, mouth agape, “Wh -- no! You haven’t told me anything, I have no idea where the hell I’m going!”

“Sounds like you’ve got some thinking to do,” Hinata shrugs, leaning back in his seat and turning his head to look at Ushijima, “Morning, Wakawaka!”

“Good morning,” Ushijima replies, but keeps his attention on Tendou. His previous threat has struck a nerve, making Ushijima vaguely doubt his previous trust in him. 

For now, it seems they were empty words, since Tendou is obediently starting the car and making his way out of the abandoned lot. Ushijima will stay diligent, however. It is imperative that he keep both himself and Hinata as safe as possible, and he will stop at nothing to make sure that happens.

And yes, if some random taxi driver gets in his way, then he will not hesitate to eliminate the threat, no matter what.

****

\-----

****

****  


After a particularly long and dead night, Semi wonders why he doesn’t feel more ready to lay down and go to sleep. There’d been the occasional customer to keep him vaguely entertained, but he’d spent the majority of his time still watching the security cameras like a hawk, waiting for and anticipating something.

A breakout? His mind is still buzzing with shock. Shirabu had, of course, been less than generous with any information, and Semi wonders if he’d feel less restless if he’d at least given him some sort of information beyond that. But really, he’d be stupid to expect anything more out of him.

Oh well.

It’s likely that he’ll be able to get it out of Kawanishi eventually, whenever Shirabu leaves. Has Shirabu left? Semi hasn’t seen anything out of him since he’d gone downstairs in the middle of the night. Maybe it would be worth it to go down there and see if he’s still here, maybe he needs a place to sleep. Semi’s not even sure where Shirabu usually lays his head at night, but he’d be willing to give up a couch or even his own bed if he needs somewhere to stay --

Semi halts his thoughts, scrubbing a bit harder on the shot glass he’s washing. Why does he care, really? It’s not like Shirabu has ever offered him the same kindness. It’s not like his efforts are ever going to get him anywhere with that little snot. Heaving a sigh, he rinses the glass, dries it, and tries to direct his attention elsewhere.

It’s a bad habit, he knows, but Semi lights another cigarette and hopes that the smoke will clear his mind. It only does half the trick, but he resigns to busying himself with cleaning the bartop for the hundredth time. The honking outside and the static-prone radio resting on a shelf drown out any remaining thoughts he’s trying to push away that involve a certain someone.

Time drags by until finally Semi is done cleaning his bar, he’s locked the doors to keep anybody from coming in, and he’s headed up a narrow and creaky flight of stairs. Surely a good several hours of sleep will be just what he needs in order to clear his mind, regardless of whatever chaos is currently going on in the city. Perhaps he should be _thanking_ Shirabu; after all, whatever is going on doesn’t involve him personally, and maybe it’s best that it stays that way.

Semi tugs his clothes off, doesn’t bother putting anything new on, and collapses into bed, stuffing his face against the comfort of his pillow. He doesn’t get up to turn the lights off, doesn’t even feel like flipping them off through the convenience of his microcomputer. As soon as his body hits the sheets, Semi drifts off, to a place where he can ignore the outside world and he can ignore the extremely conflicting feelings bubbling up in his head.

... That is, until his device receives an incoming call just an hour after he falls asleep. 

The beeping sound is enough to rouse him from his sleep, but the source of the call is what really makes him sit forwards and fully wake up. 

“Tendou?” he whispers, watching as a name and face that he hasn’t seen in months fill up the screen. 

The caller id is a rather unflattering photo he’d taken of Tendou a couple years ago, reminding him of… better times? No. Maybe ‘better’ isn’t the right word. ‘Simpler’ might be more accurate. Their relationship was often tumultuous, reeked of immaturity and youth, and it still leaves Semi with feelings he can’t quite spell out. 

He’s so shocked about this call that he almost waits too long to answer. Fumbling slightly, he presses the device up to his ear, mumbling a quiet and groggy, “Hello?”

“Semisemi!” comes a very familiar, and very loud, voice. Semi vaguely wonders if he’s dreaming and suddenly been taken back to the time when they were still dating.

“Wh --” Semi starts, pulling the screen away from his ear just enough to note the time, “it’s so early, are you _drunk_?”

“Huh? No!” there’s that laugh Semi used to pretend to be annoyed by all the time, “Listen! I got a favor to ask!”

Great. Semi shuts his eyes, letting his back plop down against the bed again. Not only did _Shirabu_ not offer him the decency of a ‘how are you’ last night, but now _Tendou_ isn’t either.

“Whaddya need?” Semi’s words are slightly slurred by his drowsy state.

“Sounds like _you’re_ the drunk one,” Tendou laughs again, but there’s a voice Semi doesn’t recognize in the background that shouts something along the lines of ‘hurry up’, “Anyway! Me and a… couple friends need a place to stay for a bit! Taichi still cooped up in your basement? Maybe he’s got some space?”

‘Friends’? Semi wonders who these people are. He also wonders why the hell Tendou is calling _him_ if he wants to ask to stay with _Taichi_ , and why he decided it would be a good idea to interrupt his much-needed sleep.

“And you didn’t call him because -- ?”

“‘Cause I didn’t know if he was still there, silly! So can we come crash for a bit?”

If Semi rolled his eyes any harder, he thinks he might hurt himself, “Sure. Fine,” Tendou makes an excited noise, but Semi ignores that, “who are these friends of yours?”

“Sorry, Semisemi! Gotta go! Seeya soon!” Tendou interrupts, not even entertaining the question for a second. The line goes dead shortly afterwards, leaving Semi with a wide array of questions and a vague headache.

Silence fills his room again as he lets the last minute process. 

Rubbing his eyes, Semi groans again when he realizes how little sleep he’s gotten. Now he’s _really_ not going to be able to relax, he knows. After several months of not seeing his previous boyfriend, Semi now has to mentally prepare for him to barge in here at any minute, with people Semi assumes he has never personally met. And how awkward will it be for --

Semi shoots upwards again, throwing the sheets off of himself and quickly pulling a random shirt and pair of pants on. Exiting his bedroom, he descends the stairs and rushes through the bar area. If at all possible, he’d like to get Shirabu out of here before he ever has to meet Tendou. Not that Tendou isn’t wonderful, in his own… special, unique way. But Semi can’t imagine how draining it will be to have both his previous fling and his current interest in the same room for god knows how long. Especially when both of them are so completely opposite.

He stops for only a brief second before opening the door to the basement, narrowing his eyes in confusion as he really thinks about it. Tendou and Shirabu _are_ so different, and yet… 

Semi shakes his head and continues downstairs. The basement is as dark as usual, but Kawanishi is sitting behind his counter and fiddling with a gun of some kind. 

“Oh,” the sound of the stairs creaking makes Kawanishi look up, “you aren’t asleep?”

“Can’t sleep,” Semi shrugs, surveying the room for Shirabu, “got a… weird call.”

“Yeah?” Kawanishi leans back in his chair, placing the gun back in a briefcase.

Semi eyes the briefcase, wondering if that’s the one Shirabu had been carrying. It doesn’t really matter; now he’s only vaguely interested in that, given the situation currently happening.

“Where’s Shirabu?” Semi finally asks, and Kawanishi gives him one of those knowing and amused looks. It’s so annoying how he knows everything.

“Sleeping,” Kawanishi gestures towards the dusty couch in the corner of the room where Shirabu is curled up, “he’s been out for a while. Maybe you should go wake him up, y’know, ala Sleeping Beauty.”

“Shut up,” Semi folds his arms in front of his chest, but Kawanishi just chuckles, “do you think he’ll leave soon?”

Shrugging, Kawanishi pats the briefcase on the counter, “Probably not until we have this sorted. Might be a little while. You really want your princess to leave, Prince Phillip?”

“Alright, cut it out,” Semi is both annoyed and slightly impressed that Kawanishi was able to pull out details of fairy tales he’s never known him to be interested in in the first place, “I really need him to leave. Like… as soon as possible.”

Kawanishi raises an eyebrow, a wordless request for some sort of explanation.

“Tendou is coming by,” Semi mumbles.

“You’re kidding,” Kawanishi smirks, and Semi couldn’t be more annoyed with his amusement.

“Unfortunately, I’m not. And he’s bringing friends,” Semi shrugs, looking again towards Shirabu to make sure he’s still asleep, “I really don’t… want them to have to meet.”

“Why not? Sounds like the perfect storm.”

Semi stares at him with judgement. Why does he rent this space out to him again?

“Who knows,” Kawanishi’s tone tells Semi that he’s about to make a biting and sarcastic comment, “maybe they’ll fall in love and hook up, right on that couch.”

“Why are we friends?” Semi asks, mostly to the empty room.

“Well, _someone’s_ gonna get with him if you don’t,” Kawanishi leans against the counter, staring at Shirabu.

Semi cannot deny that Kawanishi is right in many capacities, but still. It’s so annoying when the answers are so directly in front of Semi’s face and he _still_ can’t seem to grasp and hold on to what he wants. He wets his dry lips, moving towards the couch at the corner of the room and already trying to prepare some story in his head for why he’ll ask Shirabu to leave. Maybe he’ll tell him that a government official is here and looking for him, or maybe he’ll feign drunkenness and scare Shirabu off, that would certainly entertain Kawanishi, he’s sure. Maybe he could --

Before any of these lackluster plans can come to fruition, Semi hears the buzzing of the back doorbell, incessant and repetitive. Someone isn’t just hitting it once, they’re hitting it over and over and making some sort of annoying rhythm with it… 

“Tendou,” Semi hisses through his teeth, ignoring Kawanishi’s soft laughter as he quickly ascends the stairs again.

Just to confirm, Semi looks at the security camera behind the bar before he moves towards the backdoor. Sure enough, that’s Tendou Satori, wild red hair and everything. The two people with him? Semi doesn’t have the slightest idea who they are, but they look slightly panicked and in a rush… what the hell is going on?

As soon as the back door swings open, Tendou and his friends hurry inside, the former regarding Semi with a wide smile and an enthusiastic, “Semisemi!”

Semi isn’t prepared for the energetic hug that Tendou gives him, isn’t really prepared for the way his heart sort of aches at such a faintly familiar gesture. But he wraps his arms around Tendou too, mumbles a soft and slightly confused greeting.

“How are ya?” Tendou asks as soon as their hug is over. He looks around the room, doing a spin and laughing, “This place is still a dump.”

“I…” Semi starts, but his words are catching in his throat, probably due to how confused he still is.

Suddenly, one of Tendou’s friends is pushing forwards, bowing in Semi’s direction, “I’m Hinata Shouyou!” he stands up straight, gesturing towards the tall, built man standing behind him, “And this is Ushijima Wakatoshi.”

“Thank you for allowing us to stay,” the huge one, Ushijima, bows slightly and immediately makes his way further into the room.

Semi watches Ushijima and Hinata as they quite literally make themselves at home, settling on a couple of the couches in the room.

“What he said,” Tendou mumbles, pulling Semi’s attention back to him, “seriously, I was in a pickle,” he laughs again.

Of course he laughs. Semi feels anger bubbling up within him. He shouldn’t be surprised in the slightest that Tendou Satori is laughing, nonchalant about this whole last-minute-showing-up-at-his-ex-boyfriend’s place thing. He shouldn’t be surprised, and maybe he’s not, but he’s definitely frustrated, he’s definitely hurt.

“ _You’re_ in a pickle?” Semi whispers, and maybe he feels slightly bad when he watches Tendou’s previous enthused expression shift to guilt, “Tendou, I haven’t seen you in _months_ , and you’re putting _me_ in a really awkward place right now. Did you not think about that? Not even for a second?”

Tendou stays silent, fiddling with the hem of his shirt as he avoids Semi’s direct and piercing stare.

“You can’t just -- ” Semi huffs, noting the faint stinging in his eyes as a warning of tears, “nevermind. I’m going to bed. We can… talk later. If you’re even still here.”

“Eita -- “ Tendou starts, reaches a hand out to console him, but Semi isn’t having any of it.

Semi turns on his heel, hurrying up the stairs again and shutting his bedroom door behind him. He feels like screaming, feels like leaving the bar and running away. Instead, he settles for lighting another cigarette, opening his window and letting the cool breeze take him away for a moment. 

It’s nearing 10 AM, and the sky is still a vast sea of artificial stars, like it always is. Semi hates this city, hates it’s susceptibility for liars and bad people, hates that he’s resigned to a life filled with said liars and bad people. He lifts his stare from the neon-painted skyline and looks to the mothership, menacing and somehow still intriguing. He can’t imagine why anyone would want to leave such a place, especially for a city like this. Whoever escaped really had it wrong, he thinks.

Semi exhales. Smoke clouds his vision and he coughs. With tear-stained eyes and a splitting headache, he wonders for the hundredth time why he’s always had a penchant for things that are so bad for him.

It’s 10 AM and Semi’s mind is a wild storm of contradictions, like it always is. He wonders when he’ll feel the release of a good night’s sleep again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all again for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts! Please feel free to reach out to me on twitter, I'd be honored if you wanted to talk to me! ♡
> 
> twitter: [tendouaf](http://www.twitter.com/tendouaf)  
> side twitter: [ushitentxt](http://www.twitter.com/ushitentxt)  
> tumblr: [tendou-satori](http://www.tendou-satori.tumblr.com)  
> art blog: [kat-doodles](http://www.kat-doodles.tumblr.com)  
> 


	4. mulholland

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm posting right before I leave for work, so I'm keeping this brief for now. I hope you all enjoy this chapter! Thanks for still reading ;; 
> 
> Title comes from Mulholland by Battle Tapes! Will include a link later when I look over this chapter~
> 
> (I do not have a beta, but I will try to read through this in a few days to catch any mistakes I might have missed, I apologize ahead of time!)

Well, that could have gone better.

Tendou watches Semi climb the creaky stairs up to his bedroom, half-tempted to rush after him and fix everything. But, to echo Semi’s own biting words from the past, Tendou supposes he’s never been very good at fixing things, whether that’s a surprise visit gone wrong or, y’know… an entire relationship.

His own fingers tapping quickly against his thigh rush him back to the here and now. Hinata is currently lounging on one of the couches in the bar, though he appears to be having a difficult time getting comfortable. By stark contrast, Ushijima is sitting up straight, hands resting in his lap. Tendou thinks he resembles an obedient and well-mannered student, which somehow slightly unnerves him. He narrows his eyes, trying to understand just what it is about this guy that’s so weird. And the fact that he somehow pulled Tendou’s name out of nowhere… it’s still a bit disconcerting. 

As if reading Tendou’s mind, Ushijima’s head turns and he makes direct eye contact with him, thick, strong eyebrows casting a slight shadow over his already intense eyes. 

Tendou shivers.

“Is there something you need from me?” Ushijima asks, and Tendou can’t tell if his tone is supposed to sound threatening of if it’s just accidental. 

“Nope,” Tendou manages, breaking away from that stare and crossing the room, “I’m going to meetup with a friend, you guys do… whatever, I guess. Just don’t break anything, Semisemi might toss you out the window.”

“I don’t believe someone of his stature would be able to lift me,” Ushijima starts, “though Hinata may be a different story.”

“Wow, thanks,” Hinata grumbles, picking up one of the couch cushions and attempting to fluff it.

“I apologize.”

“Anyway,” Hinata lifts his head just enough to watch Tendou walk towards the basement door, “can we come? It’s boring up here.”

“I guess -- ”

Before Tendou can get much more out, Hinata’s already excitedly rushing to the basement door, loudly humming a random tune as he does so. He’ll be lucky if Kawanishi doesn’t shoot him on sight when he gets down there. Tendou supposes he should warn him, but… somehow, after this entire crazy night, he’s lost the ability to care very much.

“Excuse us,” Ushijima’s deep voice comes from directly behind Tendou, startling him.

“S’fine,” Tendou mumbles in response, moving out of the way.

Now he’s starting to fear for _Kawanishi’s_ life. If the dealer were to pull a gun on Ushijima _or_ Hinata, he’s almost certain the former wouldn’t hesitate to take him out. And something about Ushijima makes Tendou believe that he’d have no problem subduing him, regardless of Kawanishi’s firearm skills.

Why is he standing here staring at the doorway? Tendou rushes down the stairs, nearly tripping multiple times as the sounds of confused chatter start filling the dark space. At least there’s no gunshots.

“Who the hell are you guys?” comes Kawanishi’s voice, missing that usual sarcastic bite.

“Which one of you is Tendou’s friend?” Hinata asks in a bubbly voice, “We’re his friends too!”

“Don’t tell me he just said the name I think he said…” Tendou doesn’t recognize this voice at all, making him even more nervous when he finally reaches the bottom of the stairs.

“Chill, they’re with me!” he surveys the room, ignoring the stranger for now and instead locking eyes with Kawanishi, “Put that thing away, Taichi.”

His friend does as instructed, though a bit hesitantly. He’s never been good with strangers suddenly entering his space; Tendou knows from experience. The first time he’d met Kawanishi, after he’d been dating Semi for just a week, he’d nearly gotten his head blown off.

“I should leave,” the stranger sitting on the couch starts, straightening his suit jacket before he attempts to cross the room.

“Can’t let ya’ do that, sorry!” Hinata steps in front of the man with weird bangs, “Nobody’s leaving this place until I say it’s okay!”

The stranger’s stare is sharp, and if it took physical form, Tendou imagines it would cut straight through Hinata.

“I’ll be going now,” his voice is just as cutting, if not more so.

“Shirabu -- “ Kawanishi starts, probably making an effort to calm this guy, Shirabu apparently.

Shirabu doesn’t look at Kawanishi, he keeps his stare fixed on Hinata, “If I say I’m leaving, then I’m leaving. You can’t hold me here against my will, I don’t even know you.”

“Oh, but I can, actually!” Hinata’s grin is almost scary as he gently shoves Shirabu back towards the couch he’d been sitting in.

Shirabu returns the shove, but before he can do much else Ushijima is already walking in his direction, shooting him a warning stare.

“I suggest you do as Hinata says. There will be consequences if you don’t.”

“And I suggest you all tell me what the hell is going on before I blow your heads off,” Kawanishi’s voice causes them all to look in his direction. He’s holding two of the black-and-white guns that had been sitting on his desk, one in each hand pointing directly at Hinata and Ushijima.

Tendou’s mouth is dry and he feels like he can’t move a muscle, despite not having a weapon pulled on him right now. He thinks he probably looks much more nervous than both Ushijima and Hinata combined, since they don’t appear threatened at all.

“That little thing is useless,” Hinata mumbles threateningly.

“I beg to differ,” Kawanishi doesn’t flinch, “now, if you don’t give me some answers, then I’ll either ask you to play nice and leave, _or_ ” he turns the safety off both guns, “we can play dirty. And that includes you, Satori.”

_Oh._

“Yeah, let’s hear about your meat-head friends,” Shirabu says, voice still sharp as a knife.

“Kenjirou,” Kawanishi warns, still not breaking eye contact with Hinata.

“They’re with me,” Tendou licks his dry lips, “I don’t know anything about them, but they’re with me. I know that doesn’t make sense, it’s been a weird night,” he laughs nervously, “like… _super_ weird. I’m sorry I brought them here, I didn’t know what else to do, they told me --”

“Hey! That information isn’t for you to share,” Hinata starts, “we aren’t here to hurt anybody, promise.”

“That’s funny,” Shirabu sarcastically laughs, “because it sure seemed like your meat-headed friend there was about to rip me to shreds.”

“Wakatoshi isn’t meat-headed,” Hinata defends, pouting slightly at that insult, “and besides, he won’t hurt anybody except for on two occasions: if he feels _my_ life is threatened, or I instruct him to.”

“So are you going to give us some answers or not?” Kawanishi interrupts, “Because I’m starting to lose patience.”

“We will,” Hinata finally gives in, “we owe the crazy-haired one some answers, anyway. But seriously, we can’t let anyone leave. Not yet.”

“Hey --” Tendou starts, offended by that hair comment. Kawanishi shoots him a quick glare before he can say anything else.

Kawanishi appears to ponder Hinata’s answer for several seconds before slowly lowering both guns, “Take a seat on those armchairs,” he tosses a gun to Shirabu, “and if you move even a muscle, I’ll have Kenjirou turn you into ash.”

Hinata does as instructed, and Ushijima follows his lead. The former doesn’t look too thrilled about it, but it looks like he’s finally going to listen. Tendou breathes a shaky sigh of relief, all the tension from this entire night leaving his body.

That doesn’t last for long, because Kawanishi is standing up and grabbing Tendou’s arm, dragging him towards a back room stocked full of even more guns. He slams the door behind them and pulls a cord, flipping on the sole light bulb hanging from the ceiling. Suddenly Tendou feels as if he’s being interrogated by the government or something.

“Spill it,” Kawanishi leans against the door, giving Tendou a serious stare, “you said you don’t know much, but as long as you’re in my space, you’ll tell me what you _do_ know.”

Great. So not only is Semi mad at him, but now Kawanishi seems to be as well. Tendou wracks his brain for an explanation, coming up blank besides sputtering a few fragmented thoughts.

“Alright, how’d you meet them?” Kawanishi suggests.

“They jumped in my taxi and told me to drive,” Tendou answers honestly, though Kawanishi’s stare remains blank.

“Isn’t that your job? To pick up people and drive them somewhere?” 

There it is; some of that quintessential Kawanishi Taichi sass.

“Well, _yeah_ , but,” Tendou waves his hands around as if hoping he’ll be able to pull a good explanation out of thin air, “they didn’t tell me _where_. And they didn’t pay me! I was on break, watching anime, a really good episode too! And they interrupted me and --”

“And you let them do that because…?” Kawanishi interrupts, clearly uninterested in the fact that Tendou’s usual break routine was ruined.

“I… well -- I didn’t have a choice!” Tendou laughs nervously, “They threatened me! Hinata, the short one, has a _gun_ , you know,” he whispers the last part.

“And I have at least a hundred,” Kawanishi bluntly counters, “so that doesn’t concern me.”

“But he’s _crazy_ ,” Tendou continues whispering, “like… you don’t even know. And it’s like I can’t shake him, no matter what.”

“The short one doesn’t concern me,” Kawanishi repeats, “it’s the big one that worries me.”

“The big one? Ushijima?” Tendou raises an eyebrow, “I mean, sure, he’s scary, but he won’t do anything unless Hinata tells him to. So if Hinata was taken care of, then --”

“You must be missing what I’m seeing,” Kawanishi glances backwards towards the door, silent for a moment as if making sure the subject of their conversation isn’t standing on the other side, “did you not see his face when Kenjirou shoved Hinata?”

“I -- no? I was more distracted by the choppy bangs on that other guy, what a bad haircut.”

“You’re one to talk,” Kawanishi snorts.

Tendou would counter with something, probably an observation of how Kawanishi’s hair always looks like he rolled out of bed, but his friend is already speaking before he can.

“Anyway. Pay attention to his face next time.”

“If you’re talking about how scary his eyebrows are then I’m gonna have to agree, kinda. Actually they’d be sorta hot, if he weren’t so terrifying.”

“Why am I not surprised that you _already_ have a boner for the big beefy one,” Kawanishi mutters.

“Hey! Wh --” 

“Shut up for a second. If I tell you what I saw, you have to promise not to repeat it.”

“Okay?” Tendou’s confusion is through the roof, making him forget how called-out he felt about that boner comment. It’s annoying how easily Kawanishi’s able to tell what he’s thinking. So maybe Ushijima is hot, anybody could look at him and be able to observe that. It’s not Tendou’s fault that he’s got nice cheekbones.

“His eyes,” Kawanishi points to his own, “they flashed red.”

Tendou narrows his eyes, furrows his brow, “What?” 

He’d definitely heard Kawanishi just now, but he’s in disbelief. Is his friend just trying to scare him as a way to get back at him for bringing in two crazy strangers? Because that’s rude, even if it’s kinda warranted.

“His eyes flashed red, just for a second, right after he saw Hinata get shoved,” Kawanishi elaborates, something like fear filling his face for a brief moment.

Tendou lets that information sink in, trying to find some rational explanation for this happening. Maybe the neon signs in Kawanishi’s basement reflected in his eyes for a moment? Maybe he’s got some weird implant in his eyes that Tendou doesn’t know about; technology keeps developing at a rapid pace, so it’s possible that it’s just some modern enhancement or something.

“I don’t have to tell you what that means,” Kawanishi continues.

“I think you do,” Tendou squeaks, though he already knows what his friend is about to say before the words leave his mouth.

“Ushijima isn’t human,” he whispers, much quieter than before, “and I think we’re dealing with something _extremely_ dangerous.”

Tendou gulps, sweat rolling down his forehead, probably a combination of his nerves and the warmth radiating off the dangling light bulb.

What the hell has he gotten himself into?

**\-----**

“So what’s your deal?”

Shirabu wishes he could continue to ignore the annoying voice coming from the armchair, but he’s making eye contact with this orange-haired guy and pointing a gun directly at him.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“The suit,” the stranger nods in Shirabu’s direction, “goin’ to some fancy event or something?”

“No,” Shirabu answers concisely. 

“That’s weird,” he raises an eyebrow, “I don’t like to dress up unless I’m going somewhere. It’s too uncomfortable otherwise.”

“And I didn’t ask for your opinion,” Shirabu bites back.

“Just trying to be friends. I’m Hinata by the way,” he grins, clearly still unphased by a gun currently pointed at him.

“I don’t care,” Shirabu replies, “I don’t want to be friends with someone who threatens my life.”

“That’s fair,” Hinata shrugs, rocking back and forth in a cross-legged position, “what if I promise not to do it again?”

Shirabu doesn’t answer. He doesn’t like this guy, doesn’t trust him one bit.

“So, why are you here?” Hinata continues blabbering.

“That’s not your business.”

“Geez,” Hinata scoffs, “ _someone’s_ got a stick up their butt,” he elbows Ushijima and laughs, “Right, Wakawaka?”

“I do not see a stick in any of his orifices,” Ushijima furrows his brow in confusion.

“It’s a figure of speech,” Hinata turns his body to face Ushijima, “basically I’m saying that he’s being rude and he has a bad attitude.”

Shirabu does his best to not wear his anger on his face. If he did, he’s sure that Hinata would believe his statement to be even more true, and probably declare this several times.

“I see,” Ushijima blinks, then looks at Shirabu, “there is no reason to be rude.”

“I see several reasons why I have every right to be rude,” Shirabu counters, “and I’ll continue to be rude as long as I please.”

“Why’d we get left with the unfun one?” Hinata whispers to Ushijima, “I want the one with the two guns to come back, he’s neat.”

 

“I’m sorry, but I have to disagree,” Ushijima looks around the room, “this space is quite messy.”

Hinata laughs, louder this time, “It’s another figure of speech, Wakatoshi! It means he’s awesome.”

“Ah. I apologize.”

Shirabu’s annoyance is palpable at this point. Suddenly he’s wishing that he’d never come here in the first place. Hinata is a loud-mouth, Ushijima is dense as hell, and Tendou…

Shirabu’s rage boils up to an uncomfortable amount, making him shift in his seat. Why Tendou fills him with such rage is a mystery to him, but there’s something about him that’s so immature and reckless. Two things that Shirabu can’t stand. And the way Semi’s tone becomes all wistful whenever he talks about Tendou and what their relationship was like…

Well, it’s annoying. That’s all.

“Did the stick get pushed even further up your butt?” Hinata’s annoying voice interrupts his thoughts, “cause you look like you’re about to cough it up.”

“Shut up,” Shirabu snaps back, sharp tone furthered by his thoughts about Tendou.

He just hopes he won’t have to sit here much longer, and that he won’t have to interact with Tendou, if at all. He doesn’t think he’d be able to stand his stupid laugh for long at all.

**\-----**

Once the shock has subsided, at least visibly, Kawanishi and Tendou join the others again. They take a seat on the remaining loveseat, surveying the tone of the room. Kawanishi immediately senses some tension, especially in Shirabu’s direction. He’s not sure if that’s solely brought on by the new, threatening, strangers or if it’s partly because of Tendou’s presence in the room now.

“So,” Kawanishi clears his throat, “let’s hear it. What’s going on? Why hijack Tendou’s car and get him to drive you all around the city?”

Both Hinata and Ushijima stay silent, and Kawanishi’s patience is starting to feel tested.

“I said --”

“I heard you,” Hinata waves his hand dismissively, “I’m just trying to figure out what to say.”

“The _truth_ would be helpful,” Shirabu mumbles.

“It’s complicated,” Hinata bites his lip, glancing in Ushijima’s direction, “there’s… a lot of things I can’t say. For both of our safety.”

“You said you’d give me answers,” Tendou pries, “and so far, I know nothing. Besides the fact that you ruined my break and interrupted my show, and I think you owe me for --”

“Say what you can,” Kawanishi interrupts, “at least give us something, in return for letting you both crash here.”

“We’re running from someone,” Hinata offers, “I can’t say who and I can’t say where we came from, but we’re trying to get away from someone.”

“Are you criminals?” Shirabu asks, tightening his grip on the gun.

“No! Not really,” Hinata shakes his head, “we don’t mean anyone any harm, we’re just trying to escape from a bad situation and start new.”

Refugees? Kawanishi lets his answer sink in. Somehow, he believes him, despite having every reason under the sun to _not_ trust him. Running to escape a bad situation is a perfectly good reason to flee, and he understands why they would need to be quiet as far as information goes. The likelihood that someone would turn them in is far too high.

“So why Tendou?” Kawanishi asks, “Why rope him into it? Can’t you let him go, now that you’re on the run?”

“No,” Hinata shakes his head again, more aggressively this time, “he’s seen too much, he knows too much. He’s in this now.”

“What?!” Tendou leaps up from his seated position, rage filling his voice, “That’s not fair!”

“We’re sorry, seriously,” Hinata’s voice still sounds genuine, “and you’ll be rewarded in the end, I promise. We just need your help for a little while longer.”

“I can’t do this,” Tendou laughs nervously, pacing, “I’m not about to risk my life for two people I don’t even know.”

“You have no choice,” Ushijima says, “as Hinata said, you are in this now.”

Sapped of answers, and of energy, Tendou collapses back on the loveseat and remains quiet. It really _is_ unfair, but Kawanishi senses that Ushijima and Hinata are not about to give up. He supposes he could threaten them again, but that didn’t work earlier, and he knows that murder is senseless in this case. Besides, it would be heavy on his conscience. 

“So, are you…” Kawanishi attempts to change the conversation, gesturing towards Ushijima, and then to Hinata, “together? What’s your story?”

“Wh -- together? With Wakatoshi?!” Hinata laughs loudly, “No! I’ve got a boyfriend. Wakatoshi’s a lone wolf.”

Kawanishi glances towards Tendou, wanting to find some disappointment on his face. Unfortunately he’s still too tired to show anything.

“I am not a wolf,” Ushima declares, much to Hinata’s amusement.

“And where is your boyfriend? He’s not escaping with you?”

“Nope,” Hinata shakes his head, “but I can’t tell you where he is. Or who he is. That’s secret.”

“Sounds like he doesn’t even exist,” Shirabu scoffs.

“He does!” Hinata snaps back, “He’s real and he’s amazing! And really smart!”

Shirabu doesn’t say anything, but he does roll his eyes.

The room falls silent again, and Kawanishi ponders what could even be said now. Tendou looks exhausted, and personally, Kawanishi is feeling that way too. Shirabu doesn’t show it, but Kawanishi imagines he is too.

“Alright,” he declares after a moment of quiet, “I think we should all rest. It’s been a stressful afternoon. The three of us will take turns keeping watch, I hope you understand.”

Hinata shrugs, and Ushijima says nothing.

“I’ll go first,” Kawanishi offers, gesturing towards himself, “then Shirabu, then Tendou.”

“I’m not staying,” Shirabu shakes his head, “I refuse.”

“Shut up,” Kawanishi immediately counters, “Semi won’t be happy if you’re gone when he wakes up.”

“I don’t care,” Shirabu mumbles, but Kawanishi knows otherwise.

After he’s pulled out an old blanket and pillow for Tendou, Kawanishi takes a seat at his desk again, setting to work on pricing the plasma guns. Shirabu is passed out almost as quickly as Tendou is, and Hinata and Ushijima stay quiet. Hinata’s playing some game on his microcomputer, and Ushijima is sitting straight up, staring at the wall in front of him. It’s really unnerving, Kawanishi thinks, especially with what he believes about Ushijima. 

Kawanishi stays vigilant, even though both of them appear to pose zero threat to anybody. Maybe they _are_ simply on the run and want a safe place to stay. If that’s the case, Kawanishi has no problem. But if it’s something more sinister…

Well, he’s not sure even his vast collection of guns would be enough to stop whatever power Ushijima possesses, and that realization alone makes his entire body shiver with fear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all again for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts! Please feel free to reach out to me on twitter, I'd be honored if you wanted to talk to me! ♡
> 
> art twitter: [tendouaf](http://www.twitter.com/tendouaf)  
> social twitter: [ushitentxt](http://www.twitter.com/ushitentxt)  
> tumblr: [tendou-satori](http://www.tendou-satori.tumblr.com)  
> art blog: [kat-doodles](http://www.kat-doodles.tumblr.com)  
> pillowfort: [tendousatori](https://www.pillowfort.io/tendousatori)


	5. nightride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello! Can't believe it's been over a month since I last updated, life just doesn't slow down ;; (also, I am once again behind on replying to comments, gAH.. work keeps me so busy that I rarely have energy to reply to things, but I will go do that now!)
> 
> Anyway, I had a lot of fun with this chapter! It's less fast-paced than some of the past ones, but Tendou's POV is always fun to write. Next chapter is where a lot of Stuff will start to happen, which is exciting! Also, no one has complained about this, but I felt kinda bad so I want to say: I know KageHina hasn't really had a big role yet, but I promise they will in the future!
> 
> This chapter's namesake is Nightride by ALISON, give it a listen [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1umzOmYYKTk) if you're interested~
> 
> As always, here's a reminder that I do not have a beta, but I will read through this in a few days to catch any mistakes I might have missed, I apologize ahead of time if there are any! I hope you enjoy ♡♡♡

As soon as Tendou wakes up, he stares at the ceiling, eyes adjusting and focusing on the cracked tile above him. He knows who will be on the couch as soon as he looks in that direction, but there’s still a small piece of him that hopes they’ll be gone.

Of course he’s stupid to hold out any hope; Shirabu is sound asleep, wrapped up in an old wool blanket. Hinata is curled up next to Ushijima, head resting on his friend’s shoulder. He looks like he’s been out for a while, but Ushijima is a different story. He looks exactly the same as when Tendou went to sleep hours ago -- sitting upright and staring directly at the wall. 

“You’re still awake?” Tendou asks, clearing his throat when he realizes how groggy his voice is, “You don’t sleep much, huh?”

“I don’t,” Ushijima confirms, stare now focused on Tendou, “I am not tired.”

Tendou takes a moment to stretch, extending his long limbs and every digit on his hands and feet. Ushijima continues watching him, but his expression doesn’t change even slightly. Tendou wishes he would say something, anything. He hates silence, and unfortunately the only other person that’s awake in this room isn’t much for talk. He looks around, wondering where Kawanishi went.

“Where’d Taichi go?” he asks, looking at Ushijima again.

“I’m assuming you mean the one with the guns,” Ushijima pauses, Tendou nods in confirmation and he continues, “He left approximately 37 minutes ago. He said he was going to ‘turn in for a few hours’, though I’m not certain what that means.”

He went to bed? He left Tendou alone with these two? With a man who could quite possibly be able to overpower everyone in this building at once? What was the point of keeping watch? Tendou silently curses Kawanishi; he’ll have to question him about that, though he’s certain he’ll just have a smartass response to expertly counter whatever he says.

Ushijima must be able to read the frustration on Tendou’s face, because he offers an explanation.

“When he left, the one with the slanted bangs was awake. The one with the guns instructed him to stay awake until you woke up, but he did not comply.”

Tendou glances over at Shirabu, now annoyed by this guy’s carelessness. He feels like waking him up as revenge, but Semi probably wouldn’t like that. After all, Shirabu _is_ his guest, and --

“Do you know what it means?”

Ushijima is looking at Tendou with genuine curiosity. Tendou turns to him and raises an eyebrow; it’s strange to see a different expression on Ushijima’s face; a bit unnerving but also somehow relieving.

“Huh? What does what mean?”

“No, I’m quite aware of what the word ‘what’ means.”

Tendou laughs, softly through his nose. Is Ushijima joking? Does he actually have a sense of humor after all? Or is he genuinely confirming that he knows what the word ‘what’ means? Judging by the serious look on his face, and his general knowledge of Ushijima, Tendou deduces that it’s the latter.

“No, no,” Tendou waves a hand in the air dismissively, relaxing back against the loveseat, “what are you asking about? What do you want to know the meaning of?”

“Ah,” Ushijima nods, “your previous response was confusing.”

Tendou would feel slightly irked, but Ushijima’s genuine expression somehow negates that. His naivety is… charming, in a way.

“I was referring to the phrase ‘turn in for a few hours’, I’m not aware of what it means.”

“Oh,” Tendou gives an amused smile. He doesn’t want to offend Ushijima, but --

Wait, why is he worried about that? This guy has taken him around the world for reasons unknown, offered almost no explanation at all, and has firmly told him -- no, _threatened_ him -- that if he leaves his or Hinata’s side until either of them say so, there will be grave consequences. So why does Tendou care about possibly offending this big, intimidating, annoyingly handsome man?

“Are you not aware of the definition either?” Ushijima prods, filling the few seconds of silence.

“Nah, I am,” Tendou breaks out of his confusing thoughts, “It’s like… well, it basically means to go to bed, or relax. People usually say it when they’re gonna go to sleep for a while.”

“I see,” Ushijima nods again, narrowing his eyes as if he’s actually physically processing the information, “I will remember that, thank you.”

“No problem,” Tendou mumbles, cocking his head and studying Ushijima, “so, you, uh…don’t follow a lot of lingo, huh? Sheltered childhood or somethin’?”

Ushijima’s eyebrows knit together. Tendou can practically see the gears turning in his head.

“My memory recalls that I did have shelter as a child, yes. And I’m not certain what ‘lingo’ means either. Could you give me a definition?”

Oh boy. This guy has a long way to go.

“No, I mean… like, did your parents not let you go out much? Or did they control what you watched and read as a kid?”

“I don’t believe so, no. My memory of childhood is quite…” he pauses, and when he does it almost looks like he flinches with pain for a split second, “confusing.”

“Damn, that sucks,” Tendou plays mindlessly with the worn-down fabric of the loveseat, “well, anyway, lingo is basically the language of a certain culture. So the lingo here is different than the lingo in another part of the world. Does that make sense?”

“Yes,” Ushijima confirms, “thank you.”

Uncomfortable silence fills the room again. Tendou’s fingers find a hole in the fabric and push through. He doesn’t let his eyes leave Ushijima for even a moment; he wants to observe every movement and every mannerism, though there’s little of either one.

“Did you sleep at all?” Tendou asks, tugging at a thread. He’s still committed to picking at Ushijima’s brain, or whatever resides in that head of his, “Or did you stare at the wall the whole time?”

“I did not sleep. I did stare at the wall, yes.”

“Isn’t that boring? I’d hate to sit still that long, or look at one thing for longer than a second, don’t know how you do it.”

“There is nothing else to look at,” Ushijima bluntly explains, “and judging by the last few minutes, your second statement is very contradictory. You have looked at me for several minutes now.”

Well… he’s not wrong. Tendou is feeling a strange mix of annoyance and amusement. Ushijima isn’t wrong but _boy_ does Tendou wish he was. He wishes he could deny his own enchantment with this guy. He crosses his arms, as if the action will hide even more obvious clues of his fascination.

“S’fair,” Tendou shrugs, but he still doesn’t look away, “but you also contradicted yourself. If there’s nothing else to look at, why aren’t you still looking at the wall? Why look at me?”

Hook, line, and sinker.

Ushjima blinks, for the first time in a while he blinks and narrows his eyes in deep thought again.

“You like me or somethin’?” Tendou asks in a sly voice and smirks, knowing that he's just toying with Ushijima at this point. It’s fun. “Cause you can tell me if you do, I don’t mind.”

“I do not _dislike_ you,” Ushijima replies, “I have not fully decided my opinion of you yet. You are quite interesting, but I feel that most of you is unknown to me so far.”

Well, clearly he doesn’t know how to flirt either. That’s a pity.

“Join the club,” Tendou mutters. If anything, he’s even more confused after this strange conversation. More confused and _much_ more intrigued. 

He’s always loved people like this; tough nuts to crack, mysterious figures that offer a lot of interesting potential, people that require him to _really_ utilize his skills for digging and prying information from their brains. Or, y’know, some kind of robot with zero familiarity of anything that isn’t literal and precise.

“What club are you inviting me to? That offer is quite unrelated to what we were discussing.”

Tendou laughs again, “Nevermind, it’s nothin’,” he grabs the pillow he was using, fluffs it up in his hands, “it’s time for Shirabu to wake up.”

“I’m quite certain that he will not approve -- “

Before Ushijima can finish, Tendou’s already hurling the pillow in Shirabu’s direction, making sure the object hits him straight in the face. When it does, Shirabu jolts awake, bangs askew as he quickly surveys the room. He looks like he’s just swallowed a gallon of lemon juice.

“Who --” he starts, but process of elimination has clearly made him realize the answer to his own question. He looks at Tendou with that same threatening stare he’d had yesterday, mouth agape in shock and anger.

“Time to wake up~,” Tendou sing-songs, then shifts to sarcasm, “thanks _so_ much for keeping watch while I slept!”

“I have every right to sleep,” Shirabu hisses, throwing the pillow back in Tendou’s direction, “and you should know that it’s rude to throw things at people. Are you actually a child? Or are you just that immature?”

“Are you just bad at picking a hairdresser? Or did you cut those bangs yourself?”

Shirabu stands up, looks like he’s ready to pummel Tendou. Or shoot him. He _is_ grabbing the gun Kawanishi had let him borrow. 

“One more comment,” Shirabu warns, holding the gun in his hands and pointing it directly at Tendou, “and you’ll be a pile of ash on that couch. I’m serious.”

Tendou stays still, stays calm even though his heart is beating fast. He’d hate to be put down by a guy like Shirabu. He doesn’t even know him, but what he _does_ know is that he’s got a bad attitude and not even a _shred_ of a sense of humor. 

“Don’tcha think Taichi and Eita wouldn’t like that very much?” he suggests, keeping the same biting tone, “Maybe you should sit back down and chill out.”

Somehow, that statement seems to make sense in Shirabu’s head. Tendou sees the flicker of disappointment in his eyes before they return to pure anger. Shirabu lowers his gun, slowly, and sits back down, but his fiery stare is still fixed on Tendou.

“May I make a suggestion?”

Both Tendou and Shirabu, startled by the third voice, look over at Ushijima. He’s clearly waiting for a response.

“Sure,” Tendou mumbles, “yeah, go for it.”

“I believe it would be beneficial for one of you to leave the room. It’s clear that you do not get along, and will only continue to argue, which is very unproductive. Also, I am worried that Hinata will wake up,” he glances down at his friend, still fast asleep.

“Good idea,” Shirabu replies, shooting Tendou another sour look, “I’ll be taking my leave, then.”

“I have another suggestion,” Ushijima interrupts just as Shirabu stands up, “I believe it would be fair for Tendou to leave, since it is now your turn to watch. He has not been able to leave yet.”

Wait… did Ushijima just stand up for him? Tendou’s mind reels, shocked by this unexpected declaration. The only person he’s heard Ushijima stand up for is Hinata, and he’s finding it hard to believe that he would ever do the same for someone like him, someone he’s only known for a day and doesn’t even fully trust yet. But surely he wouldn’t be joking, right? Ushijima doesn’t have the capacity to joke, at least as far as Tendou can tell.

Either way, the most powerful person in the room just gave him permission to leave, and he’s more than happy to oblige.

“Well, well,” he smirks at Shirabu, making a show out of standing up and stretching, “guess I’ll go for a walk, thanks for taking watch, Shirabu.”

Shirabu’s annoyed expression only gets worse as soon as his name leaves Tendou’s mouth. Somehow it makes Tendou feel even more victorious.

Tendou offers Ushijima a little wave -- and a wink, but he’s sure that will be lost on him -- and heads for the stairs. He’s not sure if Kawanishi or Semi will be up there, but he could really go for a drink, maybe some food, and a normal conversation. Three things he hasn’t had in several hours.

As he climbs the stairs, he listens carefully for any customers who might be at the bar. Is it even time for people to be visiting places like this? Tendou habitually glances at the microcomputer around his wrist, but it’s still radiating red light instead of its typical blue, and it’s offering one word: disconnected. Tendou might have very mixed feelings about society’s dependence on technology, and he might despise its control over everyone, but he has to admit that he misses all of its convenient attributes. 

Fortunately, when he reaches the top of the stairs and opens the door to the bar, he finds that there’s only one person in the entire room. 

Unfortunately, that person is Semi, sitting at the bar and smoking a cigarette as he stares at his microcomputer, currently in the form of a tablet. Things are about to get awkward again, Tendou thinks to himself.

He carefully crosses the room, unsure if he wants to bring attention to himself or if he wants to slip by Semi and go somewhere else. Well… he’s not sure _where_ he would go. The only other rooms in this building are Semi’s and Kawanishi’s bedrooms. He definitely can’t go in Semi’s -- that would be even more awkward -- and he shouldn’t go in Kawanishi’s, since his friend is currently sleeping.

He doesn’t have much of a choice. Either he can take a seat in one of these chairs or he can face his problems and sit next to Semi at the bar.

Tendou heads for the bar. As he does, Semi looks up for a split second. He doesn’t exactly looked thrilled about Tendou’s presence, but he doesn’t leave either. Maybe that’s a good sign.

“Hey,” Tendou attempts, claiming a barstool and making sure to leave one between him and Semi.

“Hey,” Semi echoes, taking a drag on his cigarette and flicking its ashes in an ashtray nearby.

Quiet fills the thick air. Great, even more silence. Tendou shifts uncomfortably in his seat, grabbing a nearby glass and spinning it carefully between his hands. His taps his fingernails against its surface, grateful for at least one sound to grace his ears.

“Y’know I’m not sick, right?” Semi clears his throat, still keeping his eyes fixed on his microcomputer, “I’m not contagious or anything.”

Tendou looks at Semi, notes how the warm light of his cigarette and the cool glowing of his tablet gently illuminate his face. He’s not sure what to say.

“I know that,” he softly laughs, “at least… I didn’t really consider it.”

“Then sit next to me, loser.”

Surprised by that response, and also filled with a sense of nostalgia, Tendou takes a moment to let that request sink in. Semi doesn’t rush him, but Tendou swears it feels like several minutes before he actually slips off the barstool and takes a seat on the one next to his ex-boyfriend.

It’s silent again. Tendou wishes he knew what to say, wishes he knew the proper words to express his sincere guilt. Semi didn’t deserve for him to barge in like that, and he logically knows that. Unfortunately, though he benefits from it sometimes, his impulsivity can get him into trouble. It can sometimes result in the expense of people he cares about the most, too.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, partly for himself but mostly for Semi, “seriously. I know you think I can’t be serious but I promise I am this time. I shouldn’t have called last minute and barged in.”

“I don’t think you can’t be serious,” Semi counters, tapping the screen of his tablet a few times, “I just think you can be really stupid sometimes.”

Again, Tendou doesn’t know how to respond. One of the reasons he and Semi had stopped dating was the fact that some of Tendou’s impulsive decisions had gotten Semi into trouble. He’s not sure if ‘stupid’ is the right word, but he understands why Semi would use it. He’s upset, and he has every right to be.

“Yeah,” Tendou replies, grabbing the glass again and spinning it in his hands.

“Do you want a drink?” Semi offers.

“Sure. Yeah, that’d be awesome.”

Semi closes the apps on his screen and it shifts back into a wristband. He slides off his stool and walks around to the opposite side of the bar. As he fills a glass with ice water, Tendou drums his fingers against the rough wood of the countertop.

Semi slides the glass in his direction, “It’s on the house,” he says, and Tendou notes the slight tinge of humor in his voice.

Tendou takes the glass in his hand, once against tapping his fingers against its cold surface, “Hope you didn’t poison it,” he attempts at a joking response.

“I’m not _that_ mad,” Semi smirks, just barely, “but don’t push it.”

Smiling, Tendou takes a sip of his water. To say it’s refreshing would be an understatement.

“I forgive you, by the way,” Semi carefully leans back against the shelves of alcohol.

“Thanks,” Tendou crushes an icecube between his teeth, “I’ll try not to barge in uninvited again.”

“Well, yeah, but,” Semi looks away for a second, chewing his lip. When his eyes focus on Tendou again, his expression is softer, “I meant… for the past, too.”

Tendou nearly chokes on a sip of water. Is he hearing this right? The last half hour has been _full_ of surprises. Maybe he’s dreaming; he pinches as his waist with his free hand. 

Nope, he’s definitely awake.

“We were young,” Semi continues, “and stupid. And we made mistakes, _both_ of us.”

“One more than the other,” Tendou mumbles, takes another sip.

Semi scoffs, “Yeah. But I know you didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”

“Oh, I wasn’t talking about me,” he attempts another joke, “your outfit choices really outnumber all the shit I did.”

Semi blinks. He doesn’t really look offended or shocked at the statement. Clearly he’s still very familiar with Tendou’s biting but playful comments.

“Fuck you,” he deadpans, “I’ll have you know I get lots of compliments from customers every night.”

“Yeah, people going to a bar,” Tendou smirks, now leaning comfortably across the bartop, “ _drunk_ people.”

Semi just shrugs, puts his cigarette out in the ashtray and also leans on the counter. He still doesn’t look offended or put off by the teasing, and Tendou’s grateful for that. His intention isn’t to hurt Semi, more so to relive the past a little bit, to remember what it was like when they were together.

Truthfully, Tendou misses it, even though he knows it wasn’t good for either of them. Long nights in the city, making questionable choices, hardly ever being sober but never leaving each other’s side, shacking up wherever there was space, sleeping together but never getting proper rest… It was impulsive and stupid, but it was fun. Unfortunately it was hard for their dynamic to ever turn into anything serious and long-lasting. Things tended to be rocky and rough, especially towards the end, but when things _were_ good, they were _really_ good. 

Outside of his thoughts, Tendou slowly reaches across the table, gently poking at the fingers of one of Semi’s hands.

“It wasn’t all bad, though,” he suggests, “right?”

Semi doesn’t pull his hand away. He breathes through his nose and shakes his head, “Wasn’t all bad, no,” his fingers curl around Tendou’s, softly squeezing.

“The parties were fun,” Tendou recalls, “remember that time we snuck into some random bar that was reserved for a bachelorette party?”

“The one where you convinced them that we were the strippers?” Tendou nods, and Semi groans, “Yeah. How could I forget? I’ll never forgive you for _that_.”

“Hey, c’mon,” Tendou cocks his head and smiles, “it wasn’t that bad. You make a good stripper, y’know. Remember all those tips? We ate like kings for a week.”

“Meanwhile, you couldn’t get a tip to save your life,” Semi retorts.

Ouch. Still, Tendou isn’t offended. This is what he _does_ miss about their relationship, the constant back-and-forth that always tested both of their quick wits.

“Well… maybe I would serve more of a niche audience, not a typical bachelorette party,” he winks, “I’m a special kind of sexy~”

“Yeah,” Semi scoffs, “you’re a special kind of _somethin’_ , all right.”

Tendou pouts, “Hey, _you’re_ the one who stayed with me for so long, so you must have thought I was hot.”

“I did,” Semi nods, still looking Tendou straight in the eyes, “and the sex wasn’t bad.”

Victory! Tendou widens his smile and narrows his eyes, “Eita, you flatter me~”

“I said it wasn’t bad, I didn’t say it was _good_.”

“Rude!” Tendou barks, and his voice echoes through the room, “That’s rude, Eita. I was good in bed, and you know it. Kissing too! You used to tell me I was the best kisser you’d ever dated!”

“That’s _highly_ debatable,” it’s Semi’s turn to laugh, “and I was almost always _drunk_ when we did any of that stuff.”

“Well, I’m better now. Every person I’ve kissed recently has told me I’m really good,” Tendou declares, even though that’s mostly a lie. No one’s told him he’s a _bad_ kisser, but he also hasn’t gotten many compliments either.

“Somehow I don’t believe that.”

“I’ll prove it!” Tendou shouts, then tightly shuts his mouth. That was probably too far. Semi would never be okay with that, they stopped dating a long time ago and surely he wouldn’t be okay with it after all the drama a few hours ago --

“Sure,” Semi shrugs and leans closer, “prove it.”

Tendou gulps. He looks at Semi’s lips, then back up at his eyes. Is this a trick? If he does it will Semi kick him out for good? The last hour has been _incredibly_ strange, what exactly is going on? Is it the end of the world?

When he doesn’t make a move, Semi does it for him. He grips Tendou’s chin and tugs him close enough to aggressively press his lips against his. Tendou almost reaches forward to grab Semi’s face, but he stops himself. Instead his hands remain awkwardly hovering in the air. His eyes are still wide open with shock, and he isn’t reciprocating the action as much as he could. He’s too busy trying to decipher what’s happening.

Semi pulls away, raises an eyebrow as he leans back against the shelves again, “Yeah. You’re full of bullshit.”

“Hey! That’s -- ” Tendou sputters, waving his hands around, pointing at Semi and then back at himself, “that wasn’t fair! You -- I -- I had no idea what you were doing! You didn’t give me time to prepare! _Eita!_ ”

“ _You’re_ the one who offered.”

Tendou awkwardly stutters even more, unable to form words. Fortunately -- or unfortunately -- he doesn’t have to, a third voice does it for him.

“What the hell…”

Semi and Tendou both turn their heads towards the upstairs staircase. Kawanishi is standing there, dressed in an old t-shirt and shorts, looking exhausted.

“Taichi -- “ Tendou starts, but where he planned to go with that, he has no idea.

“I got up ‘cause I heard this loudmouth yell,” he gestures towards Tendou, “then I decided I wanted water. Didn’t expect to walk into… _this_.”

“We were just -- “ Semi cuts in.

“I don’t wanna know,” Kawanishi shakes his head, “y’guys are weird. Glad you kissed and made up, though. I’m going back to bed.”

And with that, he turns around and heads back upstairs. When his door shuts, Tendou looks at Semi again. Semi looks at him too, and they both start laughing. They laugh for several seconds, and it feels good. Tendou thinks it feels like the thickness of the room has finally aired out.

“Listen,” Semi recovers from the last bit of his laughter, “jokes aside, I think you should tell me what the hell is going on. Who are those people you came in with? Are they actually your friends?”

As much as he genuinely enjoyed the previous back-and-forth, Tendou knows that this conversation was inevitable. He just wishes he had more answers to offer Semi, he wishes he had more answers for himself too.

“I don’t really know, honest. They jumped in my cab, without warning, and told me to drive somewhere, anywhere. So I did, until they said we needed somewhere to hide. You were the first person I thought of.”

Semi chews his lip, humming with thought. He doesn’t appear to be upset with Tendou’s story, but he doesn’t look satisfied either.

“Why didn’t you tell them no? You could’ve just… I don’t know, forced them out of the car. Or contacted security.”

The suggestion is valid, and Tendou wonders to himself why he didn’t initially try that. If not for Hinata pointing a gun in his face, he supposes that would have been the correct choice.

“The little one, Hinata, he threatened me with a gun,” Tendou explains, “and the big one, Ushijima, he’s… well, he’s terrifying, right?”

“That’s funny,” Semi slyly smiles, “a certain someone told me you’ve got the hots for that one.”

“He -- “ Tendou starts, curling his hands into fists and groaning, “... dammit, Taichi.”

“Anyway, yeah,” Semi shrugs, “he looks like he could pulverize any of us.”

“Right, and he _could_ ,” Tendou lowers his voice, “every time I’ve suggested that I leave them behind, he’s threatened me. I’m not exactly looking to _die_ , Eita.”

“Not even at the hands of a big beefy man? I thought that was like… your kink or something.”

“Shut up!” Tendou hisses, ignoring the blush that’s spreading across his cheeks; the thought of Ushijima destroying him is scarily and confusingly appealing in a way, “Anyway, that’s why I brought them here. But I think they want to leave soon. They don’t want to stay in one place for too long.”

“So what are they running from?” Semi raises an eyebrow, “Are they criminals?”

“I… I don’t know. They won’t tell me that part. I don’t think they’re criminals, but I’m not sure.”

“There’s a lot of unknowns here, don’t you think it would be safer for you to just tell them to go on their own?” Semi looks genuinely concerned.

“Maybe, yeah,” Tendou drums his fingers against the counter and glances towards the door to the basement, “but for some reason I… I dunno, I feel obligated to help.”

“You really _do_ like the big one, huh?”

“ _Eita!_ ” Tendou hisses, “I swear -- “

A sudden and loud pounding on the front door startles both of them. Tendou falls off his seat and Semi backs up, nearly knocking a few bottles of alcohol to the floor. They stay silent, exchanging glances before looking at the front door.

The knock comes again, louder and stronger and followed by a deep voice, “Open up immediately, this is city patrol.”

“Shit,” Semi whispers, carefully walking around to the other side of the bar.

Another knock, “If you don’t open, we will be forced to tear this door open.”

“Get downstairs,” Semi leans down to Tendou’s level, still whispering, “quick, and lock the door behind you.”

“Wh -- “ Tendou starts, even further confused by this entire situation.

“Just go,” Semi gently smacks his arm, “ _now_.”

Tendou reacts quickly, stumbling to his feet and dashing to the other side of the room. The basement door swings open and he gently closes it behind him, making sure to secure all five locks. By the time he reaches the bottom of the stairs, he hears the front door open, followed by several different sets of footsteps. He backs up into the basement, listening carefully for any words he can decipher.

“What was that?” Shirabu asks from his spot on the same chair, “Who’s up there?”

“City patrol,” Tendou answers, “they almost tore the door down.”

“I have to go,” Shirabu jumps out of his seat, quickly packing up his briefcase and straightening his suit, “and you _can’t_ stop me this time.”

Hinata, now awake, looks panicked as he also slides off the couch, “Tendou, we have to leave too, now!”

Tendou groans, “We just got here, I can’t leave yet, I don’t want to -- “

“You don’t have a choice,” Ushijima cuts him off, though this time he looks more apologetic, “you have to come with us.”

Tendou watches all three other people in the room hastily grabbing their things. He wishes he could stay, wishes he could hang out with Semi and Kawanishi just a little bit longer, wishes things could go back to normal… 

“Hey, guy with the stick up his butt, Is there an exit out of here?” Hinata asks, surveying the room.

Shirabu loudly sighs at that remark, but heads for one of the paneled walls, “Yes. Follow me. And stop with the childish name-calling. It’s Shirabu.”

Lifting a piece of heavily used target paper, Shirabu uncovers a small keypad. Before he can do much else, Kawanishi is stumbling into the room, hastily filling an old backpack with guns.

“Where did you -- “ Tendou starts, knowing with full confidence that he _did_ lock the basement door.

“Trap door in my room, gotta make a fast escape sometimes,” Kawanishi quickly answers, zipping up the backpack and throwing it over his shoulder, “Someone’s gotta stay back and make sure Semi stays safe. Tendou?”

“He can’t,” Hinata insists, “he’s with us, whether he wants to be or not.”

Kawanishi looks at Shirabu, and Shirabu looks back at him.

“Don’t -- “ Shirabu starts.

“You know I can’t stay here,” Kawanishi shakes his head, “please, Shirabu. It has to be you, the rest of us gotta move out, and fast.”

Shirabu grips the handle of his briefcase tightly for several seconds and clicks his tongue. Finally he drops it to the floor. With a quiet and frustrated huff, he crosses the room towards Kawanishi’s previously mentioned trap door ladder.

“Fine,” he gives in, “get out of here, and stay safe,” he directs that last statement specifically to Kawanishi alone.

“Thanks,” Kawanishi mumbles, then grabs the briefcase, “let’s go.”

With a few presses to the keypad, the panel of the wall separates, opening up an escape route. Tendou stares with disbelief, mouth wide open. In all the time he’s known Kawanishi, he’s never had any knowledge of _this_. Surprises just keep happening left and right.

Kawanishi wastes no time, dashing quickly through the doorway. Tendou follows him, and Ushijima and Hinata closely trail him. Seconds later, the entrance to the basement closes shut and the space is solely illuminated by tunnel lights. 

“Taichi, wh -- “ Tendou starts, still genuinely shocked.

“Save your breath,” Kawanishi interrupts, though his tone isn’t indignant, “we’ll be running for a while, so try your best not to talk. I know that’s hard for you.”

Tendou opens his mouth to counter that statement, but quickly shuts it again. He’d just be proving Kawanishi right. 

The tunnel is dimly lit and it looks like it goes on for miles; Tendou can’t see a literal light in the distance, he doesn’t even see any exits accessible through the ceiling, and he’s not sure what will even be on the other side when they’ve made it. Where are they even going? What is Kawanishi running from? What are _any_ of them running from?

As it has for the past several hours, Tendou’s confusion continues to build. But he keeps running, desperately hoping that things will start to become clear soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all again for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts! Please feel free to reach out to me on twitter or tumblr, I'd be honored if you wanted to talk to me! ♡
> 
> art twitter: [tendouaf](http://www.twitter.com/tendouaf)  
> social twitter: [ushitentxt](http://www.twitter.com/ushitentxt)  
> tumblr: [tendou-satori](http://www.tendou-satori.tumblr.com)  
> art blog: [kat-doodles](http://www.kat-doodles.tumblr.com)  
> 


	6. belgrade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO!! I have missed this fic So Much, you have no idea LOL.. I was working on UshiTen week stuff for a while (if that interests you, go look at my more recent fics) so it got set on the backburner BUT I'm picking it back up again!
> 
> I would like to preface this one with a warning: this chapter is where the violence starts! If mentions of blood or anything like that bothers you, might wanna skip this one. ;; It's not too graphic, but I just want to put a warning here anyway. I've never written anything like this before so I also hope it reads okay!
> 
> This chapter's namesake is [Belgrade by Battle Tapes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d5Xeg8AUpv8), if you're interested~ Battle Tapes is basically my entire playlist for when I write this fic, they have heavily inspired me, haha.
> 
> As always, here's a reminder that I do not have a beta, but I will read through this in a few days to catch any mistakes I might have missed, I apologize ahead of time if there are any! I hope you enjoy ♡♡♡

By the time the wall has closed up again, Shirabu is already dashing around the room, desperately searching for all the hidden buttons and switches that Kawanishi’s installed over the years in order to keep his very illegal business a secret.

“Dammit, Taichi,” he hisses under his breath, sliding his palm against a dirty wall before finally locating a discreet button.

Pressing it results in a panel sliding down from the ceiling, effortlessly covering the last visible wall of firearms. Shirabu allows himself to take a quick and much-needed breath, but he can hear the steps getting louder and closer above his head. As much as he hates to admit it, panic is setting in, and he needs to make a decision.

Does he stick around and make sure Semi stays safe, while also putting himself at risk? Or does he flee the scene and maintain his own safety and low profile?

He supposes the question boils down to this: would he rather put himself in danger, or would he rather it be Semi?

Shirabu tightly closes his eyes, ignores the pounding of his heart, and slaps both palms against his cheeks, hard. 

Dammit. He’s always known that he never should have gotten involved with this admittedly attractive and mystifying bartender.

Doing a quick spin and surveying the room, Shirabu confirms that any trace of Kawanishi’s business is hidden away, then climbs the stairs two at a time. He can hear a gruff voice on the other side of the door, easily overpowering Semi’s slightly shaky tone. Shirabu briefly wonders if he’d be shot on sight if he burst through the door, but throws that concern out the window after he hears Semi making a strained noise.

Shirabu quickly opens the basement door, keeping his posture strong and his expression steely. He’s greeted by a scene he’s all too familiar with; a couple patrol officers harassing an innocent citizen for information that they simply don’t have. The largest one, a man with a gun strapped to every single one of his limbs, has Semi pinned to the wall, forearm pressed tightly against the bartender’s throat. The other man, much smaller in stature but possessing a stare sharp enough to pierce through steel, watches with bated breath. Shirabu assumes this is the larger guy’s crony or something.

How many deaths has Shirabu witnessed as a result of things like this? Too many. And he’s not about to let Semi meet that fate as well.

“Who’s this?” the smaller officer immediately inquires as soon as the door shuts behind Shirabu.

Semi’s eyes flick over to stare at Shirabu. There’s panic in his face, and he’s looking at him like he wants him to run. Logically, this would have given Shirabu an answer to his previous question: does he stay or leave? But annoyingly, Shirabu’s emotions have taken over, and his anger is reaching a boiling point.

“I could ask you the same question,” Shirabu demands, keeping his voice steady, “What business do you have with this man?”

The larger officer leans back and regards Shirabu with a scowl. Shirabu doesn’t exactly like that all attention is currently now on _him_ , but at least it looks like Semi can breathe again.

“We’re city patrol,” he declares, taking slow, meaningful steps towards Shirabu, “and our reason for being here isn’t your business, kid. Why are _you_ here?”

Shirabu’s brow twitches. If there’s anything he hates more than people like Tendou, people who live carelessly and dangerously, it’s people like _this_. People who underestimate him immediately upon seeing him.

“I was here for a quick drink, because this is a bar.”

“Do I detect some attitude?” Shirabu’s leg flinches slightly as the large officer moves his hand dangerously close to the pistol strapped to his thigh.

Shirabu suddenly wishes he had some sort of weapon on him, not necessarily to use, but at least to potentially intimidate this man. Unfortunately, everything he’d had is currently in Kawanishi’s possession. 

“I’m simply suggesting that whatever agenda you have, you aren’t going to find anything of interest here,” Shirabu licks his dry lips, glances in Semi’s direction, “this man is innocent, he’s just doing his job.”

“Hmm,” the officer currently mere inches from Shirabu also turns to look at Semi, brows drawn tight with doubt, “fine,” he returns his attention to Shirabu, “but what about _you_?”

“I told you,” Shirabu maintains direct eye contact, “I came here for a drink. The bartender did his job, provided a service. I was just about to leave.”

“Yeah? So what’s down there?” the officer gestures towards the basement door.

“Bathroom,” Shirabu immediately spits, “I needed to use the bathroom.”

Even disregarding the slightly defeated expression of the man in front of him, Shirabu’s story is checking out, he knows it is. He looks like a businessman who simply stepped into this bar for a glass of whiskey after leaving work. Regardless of whatever reason these men have for coming here, Shirabu knows that he can get himself and Semi out of this, given enough time and thought. He shoots the bartender a quick look, hoping he’s giving off a sense of confidence.

“Waaait,” the smaller officer steps towards Shirabu too, raising one eyebrow comically high, “you look oddly familiar.”

_Shit._

Shirabu gulps. His panic is now at an all-time high. He knows his hands are shaking, knows his eyes are twitching. If these men actually recognize him, then it’s all over. He’ll be taken out immediately, right here, and the last things he’ll see are their nasty faces and a petrified Semi still pressed against the wall.

The larger officer stares at him for several agonizing seconds, searching his face for something, any kind of clue that will tell him just who he’s dealing with here. He must find something, because Shirabu can sense it. He can see it in the flare of his nostrils, the widening of his eyes, the sudden shock in his face. 

“Grab him.”

Even with this warning, Shirabu doesn’t have any time to properly react. His mouth is open to tell Semi to run, but the smaller officer’s shockingly strong arms are already locking both of Shirabu’s hands behind his back, rendering him useless besides a few feeble attempts to kick with his feet. Shirabu’s never been physically tough, and he’s quickly regretting it.

Semi’s been pinned to the ground too, cursing at the larger officer as meaty hands tug violently at his hair. Shirabu can’t see very well from his current position, but he’s almost positive there’s blood on Semi’s face. His head is pounding from what he assumes is a combination of the blunt force being administered against the back of his skull as well as sheer fury at his and Semi’s current predicament. Mostly Semi. Shirabu never thought he’d have to see Semi beat like this.

He never thought he’d have to feel so badly about it, either.

There’s another swift kick to his head, then he’s out cold.

**\-----**

Tendou’s legs feel like they’re going to give out at any second. He’s shocked by everyone else’s stamina; sure, he knows Ushijima is something superhuman, but the rest of them? Maybe he’s been surrounded by robots his entire life, he’s just never known it.

“Taichi - “ he starts, because as much as he’s been told to stay quiet, sometimes he just _has_ to say something.

“We’re almost there,” Kawanishi answers effortlessly before Tendou can even finish, “give it like, ten more minutes.”

Hinata, currently sitting atop Ushijima’s shoulders, opens his chipper mouth and his voice echoes slightly through the tunnel, “I bet Wakawaka could carry you!”

Tendou doesn’t know whether to cringe at this nickname that he’s heard way too many times, or give in to the frankly enticing idea of being carried in those strong arms. He opts for ignoring Hinata, afraid that his voice would shake a little too much.

Kawanishi raises his wrist, microcomputer projecting a small neon blue map in front of his face, “We’re about three blocks away. Technically. There isn’t exactly a lot left out here, mostly rubble.”

Tendou looks upwards, knowing full well that he can’t see anything anyway. He’s been living in the city for so long that he never even considered what could be sitting outside its walls, never even thought about being able to escape through a series of dark tunnels.

“Where are we headed?” Hinata asks, leaning down to try and get a good look at the map.

“It’s an old office building,” Kawanishi taps a few times against the map before finally shutting it off, “completely deserted.”

He doesn’t offer any more details, and Tendou isn’t surprised. Kawanishi’s always been a bit private when it comes to his business dealings. Tendou can only assume that he’s had his fair share of meetups at this particular building, but who knows. If things keep up this way, he imagines he’ll be learning a whole lot when they arrive. Or maybe he’ll just be filled with even more questions.

He’s not sure which situation he’d prefer, if he’s honest.

After a few more minutes of running, Tendou’s more than thankful when Kawanishi slows his pace. He’s ready to lay down and not move a muscle for hours.

Kawanishi’s wrist emits another blue light, this time a flashlight, spinning around until he locates an old rusty ladder.

“There,” he points, “we gotta get up there. Be careful, this thing is weak.”

Tendou looks up, notices how high the ladder goes, and loudly groans, “You’re _kidding_ \-- ”

“Shush,” Kawanishi gently whacks the back of his head, “get up there and you can complain all you want, but right now I need you to stop whining.”

Almost effortlessly, Kawanishi begins climbing, long black coat waving slightly below him. Tendou watches him, startled by the nudge of Ushijima’s arm against his.

“After you,” Ushijima mumbles, and Tendou has to fight to drag his eyes away from the strong lines of his profile.

Though his body is close to giving out, Tendou follows Kawanishi, hoping that the added weight of Ushijima and Hinata below him won’t make the ladder finally crack and fall to the bottom of the tunnel.

At the top, Kawanishi grips Tendou’s hand, helping him step up and into a deserted office lobby. The interior and the building’s furniture all look like they date back at least a century ago, though the addition of black tarps across the windows are definitely more recent.

Tendou walks in a circle, nearly slipping back into the tunnel at one point, “What… _where_ are we, Taichi?”

“I told you,” Kawanishi digs in his pocket, retrieving a cigarette and quickly lighting it with an old lighter, “old office building.”

“Yes, I was able to deduce that,” Tendou spits, folding his arms across his chest and cocking his head, “thank you, Taichi.”

Kawanishi gives a huff of laughter, cigarette setting his features in a slight blaze, “Chill,” he inhales, exhales, then looks around the room as if it’s a place he calls home, “It used to be a tech support building, like… a few centuries ago. Obviously nobody really wanted to fix it up, it’s too far from the city.”

“Sooo,” Tendou raises an eyebrow, “how’d you find it?”

“Heard about it from a couple business partners,” he gives Tendou one of those looks -- something like a warning that he shouldn’t keep asking questions.

“Got it,” Tendou lifts both hands in front of him, “say no more.”

“Anyway,” Kawanishi coughs, gesturing towards a flight of stairs, “if we make it up to the fourteenth floor, there’s a decent amount of places to sleep. This is a good place to come if you need to lay low. I’m assuming that there’s already quite a few people here.”

“There’s -- “ Hinata starts, already panicking.

“Relax,” Kawanishi waves a hand in the air, “people like us. Refugees, vigilantes, or, y’know, black market dealers. They won’t mess with us if we don’t mess with them.”

“I’m none of those things,” Tendou mumbles under his breath; he’s frankly surprised by his own attitude, usually he’d be able to laugh at things even this serious.

“Seems like you are now,” Kawanishi says, and he probably means it as a joke.

Tendou knows, though. He knows it’s true.

“Race ya’ up the stairs!” Hinata, who’s previous panic has apparently washed away, dashes towards the steps and quickly begins his ascent.

Tendou knows he definitely can’t handle that much of a physical challenge, and he’s certainly not in the mood to accept it either. Kawanishi simply ignores the request, but Ushijima is following after Hinata, almost instantly passing him.

“Never thought I’d live to see the day,” Kawanishi mutters wistfully as they slowly climb the stairs.

“Hmm? What?” Tendou eyes him with curiosity; either he’s about to spit some serious wisdom or something super sarcastic and annoying.

“Someone who’s energy levels put even _you_ to shame,” he smirks, blowing a puff of smoke that just brushes past Tendou’s cheek.

Tendou gives a bark of laughter, “Yeah. Me too.”

Truthfully, it sucks. Tendou’s entire life has been a series of doing things that he enjoys while still managing to follow the strict rules and regulations of society. Sure, he’s pushed the limits a few times, especially when he’d been dating Semi, but he _never_ wanted to get involved in something like _this._ It feels like his entire life has been uprooted, suddenly completely out of his control, placed solely in the hands of this short, volatile, orange-haired ball of energy.

He supposes if there’s one positive to take from this, it’s that he can admire his strange and intimidating counterpart. Damn, his ass looks nice from this angle.

“You better not fuck him,” Kawanishi’s quiet voice startles Tendou out of his thoughts, “I’m saying that for your sake, maybe a little for his.”

“Wh -- I never said I wanted to!” Tendou counters, skipping a step and nearly toppling forwards.

“You’re too obvious,” Kawanishi stops in his tracks. He turns to look at him, previously sarcastic aura replaced by complete sincerity, “I mean it. Be careful. We don’t know what he’s capable of.”

Tendou, one step above Kawanishi, stares at him with wide eyes and a slightly open mouth.

“This world sucks, it’s full of shitty people and you’re one of the good ones. I don’t want to lose you. I’m already having to process the idea of Eita or Kenjirou being gone.”

“They’re fine,” Tendou whispers, as much for himself as he does for Kawanishi, “Taichi, they’re okay.”

“Maybe,” Kawanishi takes another puff, squinting as he coughs again, “but sometimes it’s better to assume the worst. Less room for disappointment.”

Tendou just stares at him, completely put off by his uncharacteristic lack of humor. He’s only seen _this_ Kawanishi a small handful of times, and he thinks all of those were due to deaths of close friends or similar tragedies. 

Tendou’s stomach churns, but he keeps climbing.

**\-----**

Semi’s head is pounding. He opens his eyes and the room is spinning.

He wonders at first if he’s got a particularly bad hangover, but the stinging pain in several areas of his body remind him -- that’s right. He was beaten to a pulp right in front Shirabu, bloodied up in his own place of work. 

“Someone’s awake!” 

Semi’s skin crawls; that’s the voice of the smaller one, who’s badge simply read ‘Jiro’. The other one had a more sophisticated title on his nametag, though Semi can only remember his name being ‘Ko’. He’s probably some big dog in the city patrol unit. Either way, his swing is strong and Semi’s worried that his jaw might actually be broken.

“How nice of you to join us,” Ko’s voice rumbles through Semi’s pulsing head. He can feel the man’s large hand on his shoulder as his eyes are still trying to adjust to his surroundings.

The first thing he registers is Shirabu sitting directly in front of him, hair matted with blood at his forehead. There’s a dried trail of red running from his nose, and his eyes are beet red as if he’s been crying for hours. Semi’s never seen him cry, and somehow that idea alone is more horrifying than the fact that he’s tied to a chair.

Semi’s breath catches in his throat as he makes eye contact with Shirabu; there’s something apologetic in his stare. Semi wants to tell him it’s okay, whatever he’s feeling bad about is okay, he’s not mad at him, even if they’re both in a dangerous position right now, he can’t possibly be angry with him. He tries to move towards him, but then realizes that he’s also strapped firmly to a chair.

“So, here’s the deal!” Ko’s booming voice is partnered with a swift clap of his hands, directly next to Semi’s ear, “Someone needs to start talking. This one,” he walks towards Shirabu, grabs a fistful of hair and tugs, “has been on our wanted list for _months_ , but we’re willing to pretend we saw nothing!”

He circles back around, now grabbing Semi’s chin and forcing him to turn and look into his sadistic face, “However, in order for that to happen, we need _you_ to start talking.”

“Don’t,” Shirabu spits, straining against the rope around his wrists, “don’t say anything, Semi.”

Ko releases Semi’s chin and swiftly whacks Shirabu in the face, “Quiet!”

Shirabu looks directly into Ko’s eyes and spits a mixture of saliva and blood into his face, “Fuck you.”

Jiro looks like he’s about to pummel Shirabu into the ground, but his superior gives him a look of warning. Clearly they want Shirabu alive and not dead.

Semi’s mind is still trying to process everything. He knows now that they’re in the basement, a room lit almost solely by neon fluorescent bulbs. Kawanishi’s setup has been successfully hidden, though Semi’s disappointed he won’t be able to fight his way out of this without some type of weapon.

“So, tell us,” Jiro pulls up a chair next to Semi’s, sitting on it backwards, “any spicy drama you got to talk about? Bartenders hear a lot of stuff, right?”

Shirabu’s eyes bore into Semi’s, he gives a very small shake of his head.

“I don’t,” Semi starts, wincing at the pain in his jaw, “know anything.”

“Bullshit!” Jiro smacks Semi’s thigh, standing up and pacing.

“He’s innocent, just take me and let’s go!” Shirabu yells, voice so much louder than Semi’s ever heard it.

“We _clearly_ saw a slight blip on the radar that there was a person of interest here less than six hours ago,” Ko explains, surprisingly calm in comparison to his feistier counterpart, “so, either you know something, and you _will_ tell us if you do, or you can give us clear descriptions of every single customer you’ve had in the last six hours.”

Semi’s not exactly keen on giving that information anyway, but his head is pounding so hard that he’s not sure he’d even be able to decipher anything from the last few hours.

“I… haven’t had any customers -- “ he stops, staring at Shirabu, “besides him.”

“I’m telling you, it’s easier if we just shoot him,” Jiro mumbles, standing entirely too close for Semi’s comfort, “then we extract the memories and move on from there.”

“That’s reckless,” Ko counters, “and I’m not about to get fired because of _your_ decisions.”

“What’s easier is taking me and leaving,” Shirabu demands, “you need to let him go.”

“Kenjirou -- “ Semi starts.

“Shut up!” Shirabu immediately interrupts, “No! You never should have gotten involved with me, just let me leave and forget I exist, trust me, it’s better that way.”

Words are escaping Semi. He wants to tell Shirabu that he doesn’t care how dangerous he might be, doesn’t care how much trouble he would cause him, he wants him, he needs him, he --

“Let’s just cut our losses and go,” Ko finally declares, moving towards Shirabu, “we’ll figure out the other situation, somehow. For now we’ll take him.”

As soon as they start to untie Shirabu, Semi panics.

“Stop!” he yells, and it burns in his throat.

Shirabu avoids eye contact, and Semi thinks he can see his eyes shining with tears again. Semi’s are starting to burn too.

“Don’t do this,” he attempts to speak calmly, “Kenjirou, please, don’t.”

“Stop,” Shirabu says sternly, offering nothing else.

The ropes have been untied, and now Shirabu’s arms are being tied behind his back again. Semi’s heart is pounding against his chest. His ribs hurt, his breath is raspy and his hands are shaking and straining against the rough rope keeping his wrists tight against the arms of the chair. He can feel his desperation taking over, can feel his body starting to act without thought when he watches both men forcefully turn Shirabu around to head for the stairs. 

Without any premeditation, Semi’s body stands up, his feet rush towards both men, and his arms swing around to smack the back of his chair against the small of Ko’s back. The large man gives an immediate huff, toppling forwards and smacking against the wall. Before he can get up, Semi smacks against the wall again with enough force to crack and splinter the old wood of the chair. This leaves him with one arm free, but he’s already realizing the weight of this action.

Jiro is reaching for his gun, but Shirabu backs up against him, stomping on his foot multiple times before the officer falls to his knees. Semi’s body keeps moving without thought, stomping against Ko’s head, shouting aggressively with every strike. When the man has all but stopped moving, Semi gasps for breath, reaching for one of his holsters and retrieving a pistol.

“Semi, don’t,” Shirabu starts, panic filled his face again even as he continues to make sure Jiro stays down, “you don’t know what you’re doing -- “

“I know,” Semi huffs, “I _do_ know.”

Semi takes the gun in his one free hand and raises it, pointing it directly at Jiro and pulling the trigger once, twice, a third and a fourth time. He keeps pulling until the clip is empty, until all he can see through still slightly blurry vision is the man slumped over and bleeding profusely.

Shirabu yells, he yells multiple times and Semi _hates_ the sound of it. Semi’s eyes are burning and his body is about to give out. The gun slips from his grip and he topples forwards, face smacking against the rough wooden floor. He can see blood starting to pool beneath him again, it drips down his forehead and burns his eyes.

Shirabu is still yelling, quickly moving somewhere above him. His arms are free now; he must have managed to get the rope loose. Semi weakly smiles to himself, completely unaware of the bigger officer finally getting back to get back to his feet.

“You fucking -- “ the man starts, throat gurgling with what Semi imagines is blood.

Shirabu yells -- _roars_ \-- and Semi rolls over enough to look at him. He has one of the chair legs in his hand, and he’s charging directly towards Ko. The larger man is wobbling on his feet, and he’s not quick enough for what Shirabu does next.

The stake makes contact somewhere around Ko’s left eye, stabbing and sticking as Shirabu tries to tug it loose again. The officer is screaming in pain, raising his hands towards his face. Shirabu keeps striking, howling like an animal every single time. There’s blood pouring out of the officer’s face. He falls on his back and Shirabu falls with him, still stabbing as hard as he can even as the man stops making noise.

Things go quiet. Semi closes his eyes, registering only the sounds of traffic outside and the huffing of Shirabu’s breath. He takes a deep breath, wincing at the pain it sends through his lungs. 

A few minutes pass. Semi opens his eyes and sees Shirabu slumped against a wall, head in his hands as he rocks forwards and backwards. His previously clean and pressed suit is now wrinkled and stained with blood. He’s mumbling quietly to himself, voice high and rushed. He’s distressed, and Semi knows that’s warranted. Semi feels it too, but he’s much too exhausted to allow himself to process the fact that they’ve just murdered two men.

Semi, breathing heavily and wincing at every single movement, gets to his knees and crawls towards Shirabu, sitting in front of him and reaching out to press a bloodied palm against his cheek.

“Kenjirou,” he mumbles, voice hoarse.

“We shouldn’t have,” Shirabu’s voice is still uncharacteristic and panicky, “we killed them, Semi, we _killed_ them, why didn’t you let them take me, why did you do that, _why_ \-- “

Semi leans closer, tightly pressing his forehead to Shirabu’s, “You’re safe, we’re safe.”

“We’re not,” Shirabu’s voice raises in pitch, “they’ll find us and take us away, you should have let them -- “

Semi’s tired of hearing it. He grips Shirabu’s face with both hands and pulls him into a kiss, ignoring the taste of blood. Shirabu freezes up, but he doesn’t pull away or shove Semi, and Semi will take that as a win.

Shirabu’s lips are just as soft as they’ve always looked. Maybe one is split now and there’s definitely a chip in one of his teeth, but Semi’s heart is racing and his body feels rejuvenated.

“We’re okay,” Semi pulls away and breathes warm against Shirabu’s face, holding his face in his hands as if he’s the most precious thing he’ll ever have, “we’re safe.”

Shirabu doesn’t argue this time. He pulls Semi’s closer, and maybe he cries against his chest, but Semi doesn’t blame him.

They’ve got quite a mess to clean up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all again for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts! Please feel free to reach out to me on twitter or tumblr, I'd be honored if you wanted to talk to me! ♡
> 
> twitter: [ushitentxt](http://www.twitter.com/ushitentxt)  
> tumblr: [tendou-satori](http://www.tendou-satori.tumblr.com)  
> art blog: [kat-doodles](http://www.kat-doodles.tumblr.com)  
> 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all again for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts! Please feel free to reach out to me on twitter, I'd be honored if you wanted to talk to me! ♡
> 
> art twitter: [tendouaf](http://www.twitter.com/tendouaf)  
> social twitter: [ushitentxt](http://www.twitter.com/ushitentxt)  
> tumblr: [tendou-satori](http://www.tendou-satori.tumblr.com)  
> art blog: [kat-doodles](http://www.kat-doodles.tumblr.com)  
> pillowfort: [tendousatori](https://www.pillowfort.io/tendousatori)


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